TAKE ME AWAY
by Devilslawyer123
Summary: COMPLETE! Isabella Swan is engaged to the abusive Mike Newton.Edward Cullen, Teen drunken popstar. they meet on night in Mike Newton's pub and Edward has an, er, accident with the car keys.she decides to help him&edward realises that love isn't impossible
1. Chapter 1

**CHAPTER 1:**

**ARE YOU READY?**

He rose from his assigned seat behind the stage, his bronze hair falling gently of his green eyes.

_Another night like this and I'll commit patricide, the act of killing ones father . . . YOU BET!_ He thought, disgusted. He went on stage, picking up his shiny black electric guitar.

He strummed the chords experimentally before the lights burst on, lighting up the stage and temporarily blinding him.

Brushing the hair from his face, he stepped forward and let his guitar roar to life . . .

_You said we'd never get this far,_

_You said your words!_

_We played our parts!_

_Said your two cents now it's my turn…_

_So sit down!_

_Shut up!_

_ARE YOU READY?_

_So you think you know . . ._

_How this story goes,_

_ARE YOU READY FOR THIS?_

_Sit down_

_Are you ready for this?_

_Stand up!_

_Are you ready for this?_

_This game?_

_Are you ready?_

He heard the crowd roar, and his father urging him on . . .

_I thought you'd never come this far_

_I thought your words_

_Meant something more!_

_Said my two cents now it's your turn_

_So stand up and scream:_

_ARE YOU READY?_

_Are you ready?_

_Are you ready? . . ._

_Are you ready?_

_ARE YOU READY FOR THIS?_

_Sit down!_

_Are you ready for this?_

_Shut up!_

_Are you ready for this?_

_This game . . .?_

_ARE YOU READY FOR THIS?_

Flowers and toys were thrown on stage, and Edward Cullen obediently bent down to pick them up.

Esme Cullen rushed on stage, handing the boy a plastic bag. Edward dropped everything inside and waved a final wave before leaving the stage. The crowd screamed long after he left.

He went through the door with his name painted on it, dropped his guitar on its slick stand and stumbled tiredly to his dressing table. He stared at the lit up mirror, shock and wonder overtaking his previous thoughts.

A pair of limpid green eyes stared begrudgingly back,

"Mirror, mirror on the stand, who is the drunkest of them all?" he slurred, uncapping a bottle of beer and downing half of it in one go.

Edward Cullen is not what you might call a drunken teenage pop star. He drowned his pain, loneliness and sorrow in anything that satisfied him.

Mainly sex and alcohol.

"So? What's it gonna be? Beer or whisky?" he slurred at his reflection. He shrugged and downed half of the whisky, too.

A bang sounded at the door and it opened. Carlisle Cullen strode in, earphone and microphone strapped to his blonde head and clipboard in hand, pen poised to write more concert invitations, dates and times.

"Drinking? Edward! Put those bottles down! You can drown yourself later, but right now, they want an encore!" his father growled. Edward sighed and dropped his head on the table. Life as he knew it was over.

He stood up, strapping the guitar to his back and stepping on the over lit stage.

The crowd shook with excitement; the lights blinded him, and from his drunken fogged throat, the words to the song he wrote, spilt out . . .


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER 2.**

**BEER, SAVVY?**

"A beer . . ." he slurred at the pretty bargirl. The girl shook her head at the drunken pop star before her. She pried his hand off her wrist and murmured apologetically,

"I am sorry, sir, but the law states I am not aloud to serve alcohol after a certain hour . . ."

He stared at her with his limpid green eyes, registering slowly what the girl had neglected. When he understood, he dropped his head in his arms and moaned.

"I could give you a cup of coffee, if you like . . .?" the girl whispered. Well the _lady _whispered. He shook his head at the male blonde bartender and scrutinized the nametag.

"Mike . . . Newton . . .?" he slurred. His memory slowly came back and remembered the blonde sixteen-year-old boy, the God of Forks High. Graduating from High School hadn't done him any favours. Stubble, evil blue eyes, dirty shirt . . . the lot. He stood by the alcohol stand, idly polishing the same glass repeatedly.

The Newton boy shook his head and growled at the Pretty Girl,

"Kick him out! It's past closing time!"

Edward stood up, throwing a menu at Newton, strapped his guitar to his aching back and stumbled drunkenly out to his shiny black Porsche. He stood there, trying uselessly to fit the key in the tiny slot.

Failing for the third time, he fell to the floor, sitting there and waiting.

Isabella Swan glared at her boss and love of her life (?) Mike Newton.

"Why did you have to be such an arse hole?" she hissed from between clenched teeth/ Newton laughed and slung a sweaty arm round her leather-clad shoulders.

"Because," he tapped the tip of her nose, "He is a drunken kid who had nothing better to do than stand on a stage all night, screaming his heart out." Bella moved away from him, disgusted.

_How could I be so stupid and get ENGAGED to this guy? My father was right; I HAVE thrown away my life. Getting engaged at nineteen? Stupid. But then . . . my father really has no say in my life, being away most of the time. . _ She scolded herself. Fiddling with the ring on her finger, she slipped it off and stuck it in her pocket, where it would stay until next time she saw her fiancé, and headed wearily for the door.

Stepping out into the cold air, she clocked Edward passed out on the floor in front of his shiny black Porsche.

_Poor guy . . ._ she thought. Kneeling beside him, she whispered, "Get up . . . come on." He groaned and rolled so he was on his back. _That only makes things easier for me, _she chuckled quietly to herself.

Wrapping her arms round his waist, she pulled him up so he was in a sitting position.

Edward groaned and his fantastic eyes – that made the female population that wasn't in love with Brad Pitt, fall for him – fluttered open.

"Watcha doing . . .?" his words overlapping each other. Bella smiled and stood up, offering him her hands. He took them and drunkenly pulled himself to his feet.

_What am I going to do now? I can't leave him here, or let him drive home . . . something might happen to him. _She sighed and led him to her black Mercedes.

"I knew you wanted something from me. Everybody wants something from me. . . Whaddya want. Money? Sex?"

Bella shook her head, pushed him through the passenger's side and started the car.

This was going to be a loooooooong night.

She dragged him through the door to her shabby flat, and guided him slowly to the 'guest' room. The room was no bigger than a box room. He collapsed on the bed and tried to pull her on, too, but she struggled and he let go, falling asleep in a matter of seconds.

She stood in the door way, making sure he was breathing all right, before heading to the 'master' bedroom, that was maybe a little bigger than the box room. She stripped and got in bed, smelling of smoke and alcohol.

_How am I going to break it to Mike that I don't want to marry him? My life depends on him. When we get married, I'll move in his house and that would pay the bills . . . but if I let go . . . I can hardly pay the bills _now_, let alone if I break the engagement off. Maybe . . ._ she twisted round so she was looking out of the window. She wore nothing but a blue bra and pants.

_Maybe if I go back home . . . bad idea. Charlie said he never wanted to see me again if I chose to work and marry Newton. What am I going to do? Shit, my life is shit. _She wanted to cry, and she lay on her stomach, burying her face in the cushion.

Edward woke up after a minute, a sense of nausea taking over. He couldn't be bothered to get to the small bathroom he saw when the Pretty Girl brought him in, so he willed the nausea away. If she didn't want a good shag from the ass-kisser Edward Cullen, then what did she want? Money? But when he offered that, she shook her head and pushed him away.

He rolled onto his stomach, and listened to the traffic outside. Something interrupted his thoughts, and he listened harder, exhausting himself.

Sobbing. Pretty Girl was sobbing. Maybe she was upset that she refused to shag him. Nah, the Newton guy looked like they were a pretty close. He listened as the sobs quietened down and a door creaked open. Feet padded outside his bedroom and then another door creaked closed.

_Should I check on her? Yeah, and risk to throw up? No thank you. _As he twisted and turned, trying to do his best as the head ache started, he though about the 'successful' night.

His father didn't love him. Why should he? He's got the ace in hand, and Edward was his little game. The more Edward sung the more money Carlisle would make. Edward had loved singing when he was little. He used to imagine himself on a stage, singing his heart out, and it was fine while his manager lived, but when he died and his father took over . . .it was all about money, money, money. No wonder the boy had a different girl – or a few – in his bed every night, and was drunk half of the time!

He groaned and rolled over again, falling off the tiny bed and hitting his head.

He fell asleep, his sweet face squished on the floorboards.


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER 3.**

**STRANGER.**

**BPOV:**

Ever had a drunken pop star in front of you, asking for something you can't give? Did you ever wonder why and how you ended up engaged to the world's biggest jerk?

I asked myself these questions the next morning, when Edward Cullen was throwing up in my tiny bathroom.

Mike Newton, the guy who in high school had been consistently on my heels and I consistently turned down and is now my fiancé, barged through the front door to my shabby flat like he fucking owned the damn place!

"How's my favourite girl?" he sneered. I knew that Mike wasn't faithful and that he had a few lovers on his arm, but I had to pretend I was oblivious to the whole sex party thing he had at his place if I didn't want a good beating. Still, I moved away when he tried to slap a snog on me. _Like, yeah right! _He smelled like his father's 'assistant'. Of flowery perfume and smoke. He probably had a quickie before he came over.

Edward stumbled out of the bathroom, holding his bronze haired head and groaning.

He really was the most beautiful guy I had ever seen . . . or DREAMED of.

Mike twisted me round to face him and pointed a quivering finger at the pop star, his face ashen and suddenly speechless.

"WHAT'S THIS?" he roared when he found his voice. His handed came away from the air and landed on my cheek, fist closed. If you slap someone with your fist closed, it is less likely that you leave a mark. I didn't have time to move away or say something when another fist landed on my face. I fell to the floor, curled up in a ball, waiting for the other blows to come. They didn't and I moved so I was kneeling covered my cheek with my hand, and stood up on shaky legs.

Edward Cullen was standing a foot away from Mike, forcing his arm back.

"Mike, I just took him in for the night because-'' I hissed.

"Because you're a fucking slut, that's why!" he roared and stepped forward. I dodged this time, so his fist landed on the kitchen counter, sending dishes flying all over the place. He saw that I didn't have the ring on my finger and he dropped his arm, a sneer on his face.

"Oh, of _course_, you aren't wearing your ring! It's too difficult to shag Edward fucking Cullen when you have a diamond on your finger! I should've left you on the street where I found you!" Edward pulled his arm back and punched Mike, missing by a centimetre.

"I _wanted _to shag her, but she is too faithful Mr. Rich Arse." He sneered. He threw Mikes arm away from his face and walked out of the door, leaving me to deal with the mess he left behind. Mike sighed and sat on the sofa, switching the telly on. I took the ring from my pocket and slid it back on. I went to sit next to Mike and kissed his jaw. He moaned and tried to move out of the way, tried to be Mr. Hard Guy, but I caught him in my arms and kissed him hard. He wound his hands in my hair and pushed me down on the sofa. He pulled the shirt off me, and ordered me to undress him.

When we were done, he crashed out on the sofa and I went to take a shower, scrubbing every inch he had touched.

Now you know what I mean by the worlds biggest jerk? He only wanted me because I had a pretty face and was good in bed. That's all. He didn't love me, like my father didn't, like my mother, like my ex… everyone I have ever met, always ended up running away from me. I sighed and stepped out of the shower. What is wrong with me? I thought. I'm about to marry a guy I don't love, and I might have his _children_, and I have nearly achieved myself a broken jaw because I helped a drunken pop star to safety. I dried off and dressed in a pair of jeans and shirt. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad once we are living together, maybe Mike would understand that beating me was going to give him anything good . . . I shook my head and frowned to myself. How could I be so stupid? Daydream like a little girl? You're nineteen girl! Get a life! She left the bathroom and went back to the kitchen/living room. Mike was sitting up, a pair of jeans on.

"My mother wants to talk to us about our engagement party." He snarled, frowning at the way I dressed.

"Yeah, about that . . ." I trailed off, scared of his reaction, "I don't think we should . . ." but Mike wasn't listening anymore. He had taken out his phone and was typing quickly in it. If this was his reaction then maybe it wouldn't be so hard . . . after all, he repeated day after day that proposing to me had been a mistake.

"Bella, hon, why don't you wear something to show off your sexy legs, huh? I love it when guys stare at you." He laughed, harshly. He stood up, patted my bum and went to the bathroom. I went back to my room and started to sort through the dresses and trousers he said he loved. I picked a short black dress with a dragon picture on the front. Mike had said, "Ooh, I love it babe. Shows off your tits _and _legs." He had paid for it and I never wore it. What was the point? I didn't love him.

When we first started to date, the sight of him without his shirt on made me . . . want to jump him. But now, the sight of him without his shirt on wants to make me puke. Shit, my life really _was _over. He had turned into a stranger after he proposed and I had stupidly said yes. He had started to beat me for the randomest things, and whenever he came over, all he ever wanted to do was shag, shag, snog, kiss, another shag and maybe _another _one. I was tired and I'd pay gold to get rid of him. I slipped into the dress and strapped on a pair of silver heels. Mike stroll in, sizing me from behind and dragging me to the bed.

I kissed him for a while, but when things started to get heavy, I pushed him off. Mike stared at me for a second before standing up and going to the window, his back to me.

"So, what happened with you and Pop Star, eh?" he asked. I sat up and tried to pull the dress down over as much leg as possible.

"Nothing. He had passed out on the floor, and I took him here. After all, I couldn't leave him in the street half dead, could I? It would've meant that he could have been hurt or something . . ." I trailed off, knowing Mike knew that I was lying.

"Did something happen?" he demanded.

"N-no." I replied, hoping that this interrogation would end soon.

"Then why are you acting like such a bitch? I mean, I come here to see _you _and you act like I'm a piece of shit intruding on your small affair." He came to stand in front of me, his hands on my shoulder gently pushing me back onto the bed. I obliged, lying down and letting him lie on top of me. His hand slithered under my dress and I silently screamed.

"You know I love you . . . and this marriage is going to be like a bond between us . . ." he whispered with slight pauses as he nibbled my ear and pulled the dress off me.

I sat up, and watched Mike's sleeping form on the bed. I had to do something and fast. This couldn't go on forever.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hope you like this chapter! It might confuse you, and if it does, PM me and I'll explain anything you need.**

**Review!!!**

**CHAPTER 4**

**ANYTHING BUT ORDINARY. **

**EPOV.**

"It's like, I can't even say what I think without fearing my father's reaction! Every time I try to change something in my life, he . . . he makes me feel like shit, y'know? Like I'm a stupid little boy who has to be _guided _into the right direction, and I _hate _it. I want to be able to choose! I want to be able to walk in a _fucking _street, and not be stared at by every _shitty _teenager who thinks I'm this great God, and I'm NOT! I wanna be free. . . I wanna be able to, go out and have fun, get a girl I _like_ and I dunno . . . do something an ordinary guy my age would do. What's wrong with wanting something like that? What's wrong with wanting to be normal? I wanna quit, I wanna go to college and study something I like, and I wanna get married, have kids, teach those kids and help them realise their dreams. I don't wanna end up like those celebrities you see in TV who are so done up by drugs and alcohol, that they don't know the difference between one and two."

_So, you want to change and stop being something you're not?_

"Exactly. I live in this world, where money and fame is everything. People get married so they can attract the press, they break up and they have a massive multi-million dollar divorce. They make their kids go to private schools and make them live a hell of a life and I don't want that."

_But you love music?_

"Well, yeah, I obviously do. But . . . when I was a kid in High School, I used to imagine myself on a stage, singing stuff I believe in, and walking around with people treating me like an ordinary kid. Well, an ordinary kid with loads of money, but that's every kids dream, right? What kid doesn't want to be famous? I have all of that, and right now, I want to throw it all away and do something crazy, like walk the whole length from Germany to Spain or something like that. I want people to see that I am NOT a fucking loser who has nothing better do to but stand on a stage and scream my heart out. I want them to see the real me."

_If you had the opportunity to go back to High School, and rearrange your life, would you do it?_

"Yes. My father doesn't understand that maybe singing at six concerts a week could be tiresome. He doesn't understand that I'm just a nineteen-year-old guy who wants a life. An ordinary life where he could meet ordinary people, and do ordinary things. You know what I really want? To go to Pizza Hut. When I was in High School, I went once with my friend Jasper. I remember we ate loads and then felt sick afterwards. It was funny as fuck. Weird enough, I want to do that again. Eat pizza and feel sick afterwards. I don't wanna go to those shitty over eighteen parties with loads of champagne, but maybe got o one of those parties where it's all about sex and music. The only shag I get is if I am at a club and I pick up some model who I'm interested in"

_Your father said you were . . . drowning yourself in alcohol. Is it true?_

"Yes. And I'm glad to say that alcohol is my best friend. Emmett threatens that he'll throw 'em away, but I know he won't. I pay him to keep his silence."

_Is it true you indulged on an orgy?_

"WHAT? OF COURSE, I DID NOT! I like sex, but not enough to watch a group do it. That's . . . inhuman! Gross, no way would I do that!" this guy was NUTS! My 'doctor' – or rather, my fucking _psychiatrist _– thought I indulged on an orgy? Ew! No way! Gross! I don't even watch sex on TV coz I think the way they do it is . . . ew! I only like it when I'm the one doing it! Urgh, gross!

_But you like sex?_

"yes," I repeated tiredly, "don't you tell me _you _don't? you've got six kids!"

_that is not random shag a day, Edward. It is love._

"Really? Never experienced _that _before. Even if . . . I have met this real nice girl . . ."

_yes . . .?_

"even though she refused to give me a drink, refused to sleep with me, and I don't even know her _name_, but . . . OK, so this morning I woke up in a flat, absolutely oblivious to the whole thing. I thought that maybe it was another one-night stand . . . but, I went to the kitchen and Pretty Girl-''

_Pretty Girl?_

"Yeah, that's what I call her coz she's a babe. And she looks good in a pair of jeans and baggy shirt and stuff. Anyway, Pretty Girl was fighting with a guy who I presume is her boyfriend. They were fighting and when he saw me, walk in the kitchen, he landed one on her."

_You mean a kiss?_

"Nope. A full on punch in the face. I felt so . . . angry when I saw he curl up on the floor like she was waiting for more, and even _angrier _when her boyfriend started calling her a slut and a whore and stuff. I tried to hit him, but I had this shitty hangover and I missed by _that much_," I held my thumb and forefinger a millimetre apart, "And I kicked his sorry ass." The bell stroke four and I was outta my seat and running for the door before you could say _gin and vodka. _

I have a weekly appointment with a health doctor. My father thinks that if I drink too much, then I'll be useless on the business department.

I walked in the cold streets, ignoring the stares of admirers and scrolled through the girl names on my blackberry.

_Amelia_

_JC_

_Lucy, _who's Lucy? OH! _That _Lucy . . . the Lucy that had followed me in the club and then took me to her place . . .

_Natalie_

_Rose_

_Portia . . ._ Portia. ah, the sexy Spanish girl all tits and legs. I put the phone to my ear and waited patiently as it rang.

Finally, she picked up.

"Edward! Hi! I thought you'd never call!"

"Yeah, I thought I might not. I'm feeling a lil lonely here. Mind if I come round your place for a quick game?" I murmured.

"Oh my God, sure! You know where I live, right?"

"Sure." _No, _but I'll find someone who can tell me.

I headed for my car and sat there, thinking my options over.

Pretty Girl walked by, with Mike Newton, an arm slung carelessly round her shoulders. She saw me and smiled a little, without showing her 'boyfriend'. More like sexfriend.

Mmm, looked like a party was on, with that dress she was wearing . . . shit, she looked _good_. I watched her retreating and then started the car, heading for Portia's place.


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER 5**

**HOME . . .?**

**EPOV**

"Aw, Dad! I'm just a lil kid! I can't go to some fucker's engagement party!" my father wanted me to go at an engagement party? No way.

Wait. There'd be champagne, and whisky and _wine_ . . . and maybe a couple of girls wearing shit-like dresses if they were bride maids . . .

"Little kids don't have girls up in their rooms until late, making _noises_." Damn. Rosalie got me there.

"What are you doing here, anyway?" I snapped, uncapping a bottle of vodka and tipping it to my lips. The bottle disappeared, and landed in the trash.

"HEY!" I yelled.

"To answer your stupid question, Emmett and I are going out. And your father asked me to look at your car while I was here. Do you realise what shite I founder under the hood? When was the last time you changed the oil? And do you ever put water in it?" she hissed, shaking her manicured fist at me. Oh, that explains what the grease smear on her tanned face.

"Yeah, well that's _your _job. Take care of it." I patted her head and she growled.

"Edward, singing is _your _job, so get changed and start the car! Do you know how much they're paying? Loads!" Carlisle banged a dry glass on the table in front of me and I flinched just a little. After I 'visited' Portia – pronounced _por-sh-ah _– I went home, and my father informed me of my little concert at a_n engagement party._ I do not sing at _engagement parties._ That is not my class of work.

"Oh, you might want to wear that suit your mother bought for you last month." He hissed.

"You make me go to an _engagement party_-''

"Stop saying it with so much sarcasm, boy!"

"And then you want me to wear a fucking suit? That's shit!"

"Don't swear at me!" he yelled cuffing my ear.

"I swear at who the _fuck _I want, you full mouthed shitter!" I yelled right back. Dodging out of the way when his fist came down again, I ran lightly up the stairs, laughing quietly to myself. I heard Emmett lumber down the stairs, and Rosalie squealed. Urgh, no way. Thank god, I got outta there quick enough. Just seeing them smooch is enough for someone to throw up their breakfast and the dinner of the night before!

As I changed into a pair of black jeans with chains, my mind flashed back to the night before. Pretty Girl helping me into her apartment, Pretty Girl pushing me off when I tried it on her, and Pretty Girl being beaten this morning, in front of my very eyes. That arse hole of her boyfriend really was a bad job of nature. He looked like the rich type, and he probably was. Why would she put up with all of that if he didn't have money? The flat she lived in looked nothing like a rich kids place. Aye, but the expression 'never judge a book by its cover' might be right after all. In this case, it'll be 'never judge a babe by her flat'.

I slid a skull black hoody over my head and looked around for the one thing that would get me through the day.

Mmm, my baby bottle of whisky.

"Ah, there you are." I muttered, sliding the bottle from my safe behind the poster of Three Days Grace. OK, so I had a safe. So what? If my 'father' found out I had a secret storage of alcohol in my room, he'll fuck me both ways!

I let the liquid slide down my throat; I gulped and then shook my head as the first wave of alcohol hit me like a boulder.

"What a babe." I placed the bottle back in its place and picked up my guitar. My father had won again.

Engagement party, here I come!

Guitar roars to life as I stood on the platform . . .

_I'm telling you now you can't win this_

_Coz you're way too slow . . ._

_I fell you now you're gonna take this_

_Did you come here to watch me . . ._

_Watch me burn?_

_I'll let it show that I'm not_

_Always hiding._

_Come on and let it down_

_Watch me burn!_

_I won't let it show and _

_I'm not always hiding_

_So I'll let it down!_

_I'll watch you burn!_

_So let me know just how to take this_

_Coz you're way too cold . . ._

_And I'll show you how before it breaks me . . ._

_Did you come here to watch me . . ._

_Watch me burn?_

_I'll let it show that I'm not_

_Always hiding._

_Come on and let it down_

_Watch me burn!_

_I won't let it show and _

_I'm not always hiding_

_So I'll let it down!_

_I'll watch you burn!_

The guitar roars and I step forward, microphone strapped to an earpiece . . .

Pretty Girl is standing down there with her sexfriend . . .

I wink and . . .

_Oh . . ._

_Oh . . .!!_

_Let it show that_

_I'm not always hiding . . .!_

_Come on and let it down!_

_Watch me burn!_

_I won't let it show and . . ._

_I'm not always flying . . _

_So come on and let it down _

_I'll watch you burn . . .!_

I pick up a glass of champagne and tip it toward the sky.

"Hope you live happily ever after . . ." I say – note the sarcasm – and down the glass. A camera flashed somewhere and as I stepped off the stage, a girl of about my age steps forward and gasps,

"Oh my God, I am _such _a fan! Can I have an autograph, please?" seriously! This girl was nearly twenty and she was acting like a six year old when she sees a guy dressed in a bunny suit!

I smile in a totally fake way and pull out a pen from my pocket. She gives me a photo and I ask,

"To . . .?"

"Oh, Jess Stanley." I start. Jessica Stanley. . . the girl who had hunted me down in High School and I always turned down.

I scribble her name and a crazy 'love you, Edward xxx'. Handing the picture back, I pocketed the pen and spot the most beautiful vision in the world. A table with only alcohol.

I walk purposefully toward it and top a glass with champagne and vodka. Disgusting, but gives you a hit that you forget everything else . . .

"I won't have to carry you to my place again, I hope." A silky voice whispered behind me. How I heard, I have no idea. They were playing some crap '50 retro stuff, but I heard, and turning round, I came eye to eye with a pair of chocolate brown eyes.

"Oh! No, I don't think so." I laughed. Pretty Girl laughed, too and said,

"Sorry, I'm Isabella Swan . . . I didn't have time to tell you last night. I was scared you'd puke all over me." I laughed and set the glass down, leaning casually against the wall.

"Happened before, and I do _NOT _want to live that again."

"Huh, bet you don't. So, what do you think of this totally shit engagement party my fiancé's parents have thrown?" she asked, a sad look to her beautiful eyes. I admit, that I nearly choked on my own glass of gross stuff when she said _fiancé. _She was getting _married_? To _him_? Typical me to fall for someone who is nearly married. Or married.

"Er, it's too blue and pink, the champagne is shit, the people are so boring I wanna go to sleep . . . oh, and your fiancé looks like he's having it off with one of the shitty dressed girls." I hissed, glaring at Mike Newton. So maybe what I said was mean, but can you blame me? She's getting _married_! To the fucker who beats her up!

"That bad, huh?" she laughed.

"Oh, much worse . . . but I'll stop myself before I get nasty." I growled.

"Nasty? You don't look the type." She laughed again. God, her laugh was _gorgeous. _

"Never judge a book by its cover." I tipped my glass forward, letting the gross stuff dribble to the grassy area I was standing on.

I excused myself and made my escape.

**Sorry if this chappie is long, but I had loads to write! And I had no idea where to stop and start a new chapter!**

**Don't forget to review!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!**


	6. Chapter 6

**CHAPTER 6**

**WHAT GOES AROUND . . . COMES AROUND**

**BPOV**

I knew that Mike wasn't going to keep his hands to himself. When Edward pointed out that he was having it off with the blonde bitch with the shit dress, I felt like breaking the engagement right then.

But I couldn't for various reasons.

My life depended on Mike and his money.

If I broke the engagement off, I'd have to explain _why._ And what was I going to say when they asked? That I fell in love with a drunken Pop Star? That Mike was a pig, and all he ever thought about was sex? That he beat me for the most random things?

I couldn't say those things because my family wasn't there, it was all _his _family and friends and if I said those things, they'd take Mikes side and then what? What would I do? How would I get home? Even though I felt there was something between Edward and me, I knew that he wasn't interested. He preferred the models with the long gangly legs and long blonde hair.

He excused himself and left, taking the bottle of champagne with him. That guy had a hell of a stomach. He had poured champagne and vodka in a glass, and I know from experience what that does (**A/N: do not try this at home**)

I went over to Mike and I placed an arm round his waist, sneakily looking round for something – or someone – better. I spotted a blonde haired boy that looked vaguely familiar. He was standing in front of Edward gesturing at the bottle he held. Edward was shaking his head, his kissable top lip curling in a snarl. He hid the bottle behind his back and Blonde Boy grabbed his arm, forcing him to release the bottle. It fell to the floor with a _clang,_ smashing. Edward stood there staring at it for a second, tipping his head to the side as if it was the most interesting thing he ever saw, before launching himself at Blonde Boy, throwing him back against the wall.

"YOU SHIT! WHAT DID YOU DO THAT FOR?" he yelled, punching him in the stomach. Blonde Boy fell to the floor, arms round his midriff.

Rushing over, I spotted a bottle of champagne by the stage. I picked it up and tapped Edward on the shoulder. Most people were watching now.

Edward turned and saw me holding a bottle of alcohol, and he smiled. I walked away with the bottle, and as expected, he followed like a puppy. When we were behind the 'stage' I slammed him against the wall and hissed,

"Don't you DARE do something like that _again_! Do you realise in what SHIT I can get into?" he looked at me for a second and then bowed his head, eyes closed. I took my hands away from his chest, blushing a little. He looked up at me again and smiled,

"Sorry. But . . .this place sucks and I hate myself for everything I've done and when Jasper took that bottle from me, and smashed it I . . ." he trailed off, his eyes not meeting mine, a reddish colour filling his cheeks.

"Why do you drown yourself in alcohol? What's the point? It'll just make your life worse." He slid to the floor, and I sat down next to him, hiding the bottle.

"Dunno why. My father wants things from me . . .he expects me to get to the top by the time I'm twenty, and I can't do that. I don't want to be a singer, coz I know what my life'll be by the time I'm twenty .. . Just look at the kid who did that movie, er, _Richie Rich_. He was a great actor, but died for overdose of drugs, being famous when you're too young can lead to things that you don't want. Look at Britney Spears who started her career at sixteen. She's half dead and spends most of her time in court!" I listened as he talked, realising that I knew how he felt.

"Edward, have you tried telling your father how you feel your life should be? After all, it is your existence he's playing around with." I whispered. The thump of music came from behind us, but other than that, this moment deserved whispering.

"Are you kidding? My father would sooner kick me out with a dollar fifty before listening to what I really wanna do!" he hissed. His eyes turned on me and I felt myself blushing. I wrapped my arms round myself, trying to hid what the dress made me look like.

"You cold?" he whispered. I didn't answer and he took his hoody off, revealing a tight olive green polo shirt underneath, open at the neck. I obediently slid into the hoody and immediately felt better. He leaned his head against the plaster wall and sighed.

"What about you? Somehow, I know you don't want to marry that sex obsessed loser of yours." He whispered.

"Huh, you're right, I don't want to marry him, but what choice do I have? I have a crap job that hardly pays the bills or the rent, and marrying Mike would mean he would share his living with me bills."

"So is that it? You want him for the money?" he asked, staring at me in surprise. I nodded, ashamed.

"Last night, when you helped me, when I asked you if you wanted money, why didn't you say yes?" he asked.

"Edward, I don't go round accepting money from strangers. This is what I chose for my life, and I have to try and fight my way through it. Accepting money from a drunk you, would mean I give up. That I'm so out of control that I would do _anything _to get out of the shit I got myself into."

"What if I wasn't drunk? Would you accept then?" he asked, twisting round to face me.

"No." was my simple reply. He sighed and took my arm, helping me up.

"Edward, when you said that you wanted something different for your life, what did you mean?" we walked out of the small backstage thing and out into the cold but sunny afternoon. Mike saw me emerge with Edwards hoody on and his face turned white. I blanked him and listened to Edward.

"I want to go to college and get an education. I want to become and ordinary guy, like the ones you see going to see their girlfriends everyday. I want to walk around and not duck when I see a man with a camera. I don't want to be fake, y'know?"

"Fake?"

"Yeah. Acting like I'm enjoying life when I'm not." He spotted Mike walking purposefully towards us and muttered, "Oh shit."

"I got you to talk simply without alcohol, see? You can do it, Edward. Try and quit, OK?" I hissed. I remained where I was as Edward walked away, a backward glance saying he was sorry for tdoing this to me.

"Happy you had a quickie with the pop star?" he growled.

I was towed away, probably for a shag and a beating.


	7. Chapter 7

**HI! I have this tiny problem where I swap tenses in my stories. If you spot this, could you please PM me? Thx so much and don't forget to REVIEW!**

**CHAPTER 7**

**RULE THE WORLD**

**EPOV**

"I felt like I . . . ruled the world, y'know? Like I could stop time if I wanted to and I could do anything I wanted, y'know? That moment felt so . . . special, so unnatural to me. I never had a proper conversation with someone before and that felt so _good_, like it was only her and me."

_Would you like to experience that again?_

"Yes. I want to talk to her, and listen to her when she had something to say, and I love it when she asks questions about me and she seems genuinely interested."

_Mr. Cullen, your father has said that you . . . have drunk again. That you got in a fight at the engagement show you were supposed to do for a mere bottle of champagne . . .?_

"Why are you even asking me that? You know how I feel about alcohol and when Jasper took it from me . . . yeah, I went crazy. You shouldn't listen to my father, doc. You should know better than that." I stood up and slid my jacket on, pulling up the collar. My doctor shook his head and handed me the slip with my next appointment and the time. I left, banging the door behind me. Glancing at my Armani watch, I saw that the appointment had been shorter than I expected.

6.00pm. I slid into my Porsche and stroked the wheel before sighing and started the car. Isabella had a drugged me. What other guy couldn't stay away from a girl he met on a drunken night?

Not this one.

I drove slowly – which was unusual for me, I usually drove at about 90 to 100mph – mulling over what I should say when I go in that door and ask for a drink.

_Hey, can I have a drink? _Nah, she'll probably think I'm at it again and she'll probably ask if I was driving. What if her arrogant sexfriend was there? Right now, if I saw him I'd knock his block off. What man treats a woman that way? There fiancée? If she was mine, I would never have it off with some other girl in front of her! No, if she was mine, I would never touch or look at another girl.

How about: _I wanted to see you. After today, I felt . . . whole again and I want to feel that again…_?

No. if her fiancé heard then he'd think god knows what . . . I parked a little away from the bar entrance and saw that the place was _crow-ded_! What was going on in there? Fight? I got out of the car, switching the alarm on. The last thing I want is someone to take it away. Closing my jacket against the cold, I rushed to the entrance, opening the door and slipping in. I notice a flash going off somewhere, but I didn't have time to see who it was.

Isabella was at the counter, passing glass after glass of beer down to the guys who were waving notes at her. There faces were bright red and some people's noses were running. Urgh, I hope _I _didn't look like that when I was drunk! Switching my phone off, I made my way casually to the bar stand, grabbing Isabella's arm as she was about to disappear round back.

"Edward! It's so good to see you!" she said, her eyes shining bright. I grinned ruefully and leaned for ward, so my lips were touching her ear.

"Do you have a sec? I have something to ask you." She pulled away and looked at me, chewing her adorable bottom lip. I smiled at her and she looked around, her eyes scanning the room for her Mike.

"I have my break in ten minutes. Wait for me out back, and _please _don't get caught! I'll never hear the end of it!" she pushed me gently to the wooden door that led to the back. I looked back at her, and for the first time, I saw a small bruise forming on her cheekbone. I slid through the door and waited quietly in the shadows.

Isabella walked quietly through the door, and I stepped out of the shadows. She turned and saw me, a sweet smile spreading across her face.

What were these words??? _Adorable? Sweet? Gorgeous????_ Oh, God I was losing my touch.

"hey." She whispered.

"Hey." I whispered back. I led her to a small brick wall that closed the area off from a field. Taking a deep breath, I whispered, "Did he hurt you? This afternoon when he saw me with you, did he hurt you?"

"No." she lied. I knew she was lying coz her eyes didn't meet mine and she started to chew her thumb like Alice used to do when she was a little kid.

"Don't lie. Did he hurt you?" I repeated quietly.

"No. Yes." she sighed.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I deserved it. I shouldn't've snuck off like that."

"Not like _he _would notice. He was too busy feeling that whore up. Who was she anyway?" I hissed.

"Lauren Mallroy. She's been after Mike for ages now. Since High School, really." Her shoulders slumped a little and she resumed biting her thumb.

"Don't do that." I whispered, I hooked my fingers round her thumb and bought it away. She looked at me for a minute before giggling quietly. I admit, I was waiting for that right opportunity to plant one on her. She looked so . . . stunning.

I leaned forward, and she stopped giggling, her breathing broke. Our lips met briefly, before the back door opened and Newton strode out, his face a mask of hatred.

"Bitch! What are you doing here? We have loads of customers out there and you are out here with . . .with _him_? Didn't I tell you what would happen if I saw you with the bastard again? Slut!" he hissed the last word and I stood up, squaring my shoulders. As I took a step forward, he cringed.

"The bastard has a name you shitter. Now get outta my way before I do something you might regret." I threatened.

"Why would _I _regret it? You'll be the one losing your career." He snarled.

"Oh, I don't give a FUCK about my shit faced career! I care more about the welfare of a girl whose fiancé has no right in beating her for nothing!" Mike blanched, and took a step away. I walked past him, digging an elbow in his ribs, and left them alone.

I know I shouldn't've, but what else could I do? He had the upper hand. I couldn't stay with Isabella all night, and Mike would get to her anyway.

I headed home, feeling sad and uneasy. What was my father going to say if he found out?

I didn't give a crap, but I still cared of what he thought of me . . .

Isabella Swan . . . I might write a song about her . . . yeah right. Like my _father _would let me perform it! 'Love will get you no where in your life, Edward. It'll just turn you upside down one day.'

Bastard thought he knew more than me just because he's _married _and has had _kids _and knows what life is like. I wanted to stop the car, get out and scream for a very, _very _long time.

Parking the car in the stony driveway, I went through the door . . .

And came face to face with the man from hell.


	8. Chapter 8

**CHAPTER 8**

**KISS THE GIRL . . . ?**

**EPOV**

"Dad! I thought you were sleeping!" I hissed. Shit, I nearly had a fucking _heart attack_! What the HELL was he playing at??

"Sleep? _SLEEP_? Sleep when something awful has happened? Sleep?" he shouted, his voice echoing in my head. The good feeling I had when I was coming home shattered into a thousand irreparable pieces. What was going on here? Did he find out what I _really _wanted from life?

"Dad, I can explain . . ." I trailed off when my father slapped a bunch of cards on the table, and pointed to them, his lip curling into a snarl. I paced slowly and quietly toward the table and looked down. The cards, I found out, were photos. Photos of a familiar place and a familiar person . . .

"That's _me_?" I shuddered. Whoever was the photographer had to be fired. The images were blurred and the lighting was all wrong.

"Oh, yes! That _is _you, my young DRUNK pop star of a son! That _is _you! Entering a pub. I thought you promised you weren't going to do it anymore. I thought you promised that you'd stop? That you'd think about the future?" he hissed, clenching his teeth and balling his fists. I smiled and leaned against the fridge, crossing my arms defiantly. Maybe _now _was the moment I could tell him what I wanted. Maybe _now _was the moment I could tell him what I was programming for my future. But the look in his eyes told me I wasn't about to have a future, for the look in his eyes made the saying 'if looks could kill' more real than ever.

"Dad, I'm _addicted_. It's the only thing that can keep my mind of the shit life I'm leading. Dad, I don't want to sing anymore. I don't want to do show business." I closed my eyes and held my breath, hoping for the inevitable to happen. The only sound I COULD hear were the sounds of my father's heavy breathing - not good – and the unceasing sound of rain on glass – good – and the sound of my own breath.

"What.Did.You.Say?" he punctuated very word by taking a step forward, his eyes narrowed and a scary look in his young handsome face.

"Dad, I'm sorry OK? I just can't tale it anymore, and I met this _fantastic _girl and I –''

"Oh, is this for a _girl_? Shag her and she'll be off with a prize in hand, son. That's what they all do. But right now? Right now, we have got tons of concerts to work for and that'll mean money." He rubbed his thumb and forefinger together, emphasizing the word _money_.

"She's not just some _girl_, father. I feel something for her that I have never felt before, and I want to see if things'll work out." I protested. I knew that things _couldn't _work because she was getting married in two months, and that was enough time for her to forget me.

"Who is she?" he asked, sitting at the table and skimming through the photos.

"Isabella Swan" I replied, suddenly suspicious.

"Description?"

"Long hair, chocolate brown eyes, slim figure-''

"Oh . . . I _see_. Well, nice bit of skirt isn't she?" he sneered, his eyes glinting with malice, "Out of the question. She's getting married, _and _she'll get you nowhere in life. Out pf the question" he repeated.

I sighed and hung my head, knowing that this wasn't the last time I would see her, because in my near future I saw her with me, and I will be the guy she wanted me to be.

"She won't, Dad. I'll promise you that."

I turned on my heel and left, slamming the kitchen door behind me. I went to bed, stripping so I was only in my boxers and slid into bed, my thoughts muddled and my body screaming _drink! Drink! Drink! I need drink! _

I ignored the annoying voices in my head and slipped away into the depths of my dreams, my mind sticking to the familiar warmth of Isabella's lips.

I woke up that morning and knew I had to see her. My senses were telling me it was too risky, that it was too dodgy, that her sexfriend might be there, that I might get caught, that she might not want to see me after the other night that I was a lying loser who thought only of himself and she knew it.

There were a lot of 'that's.

There were a lot of 'ifs.

There were a lot of 'maybes and 'maybe not's.

There were a lot of my senses who yelled at me to go back in bed and forget her.

There was a lot of sense who yelled at me to go to her place and kiss the life out of her.

Other senses said that Mike was there, that Mike _had _to be there.

Other senses told me that her – and my – future depended on each other.

What did I do?  
I dressed simply in jeans, shirt and leather jacket; steal the keys and a snuck out, jogging the way down the driveway to my frosted car.

There were times when I wanted to scream.

Times when I wanted to die.

Times when I wanted to kill.

Times when I was happy about my career.

Times when all I thought about was the girls and sex I had, the money I possessed and earned and I never touched.

These times were of the Edward behind the mask.

Time of present was the times of Edward outside the mask.

If I was feeling courageous and determined when I left the house, I was feeling elusive and stupid when I was _outside _her house.

I was breathing too hard, too quickly. My palms were sweating, my face was hard and my eyes were panicky. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, getting out of the car, locking and fixing the alarm on.

I straightened my jacket and walked to the small tight entrance of the flat. I knocked twice and then cursed myself for my stupid ability of not being able to _ring._

I was about to go away when a voice drifted from behind the door.

"Who is it?" the voice croaked, as if it was ill.

"Um, it's . . . its Edward." I talked clearly, trying to understand if it was Bella talking.

"Go away." She hissed through the gap she made in the door.

"Bella, I know you hate me for last night, but-''

"Edward, just _go_. It's fine, everything's fine, OK? Just _go_?" a flash caught my eye and I whirled around, facing the spot where I saw it coming. All I saw was a long leather jacket disappearing behind the bushes.

"What's wrong, Bella? Why won't you talk to me? What's wrong?" I whispered, trying to push the door open.

"Nothing! Just- just _go_, please. Please? Please just go." She was about to close the door, but I slid my combat boot covered foot between the door and the jamb. Pushing with all my might, I flung the door open and saw Bella's back retreating through the door of the bathroom.

"Bella? Bella! Come on, open up! I want to talk! Listen to me!" I yelled banging on the door multiple times.

"Edward, _go away_. How many times must I say? Just fucking leave me ALONE. You've made enough damage as it is. Go back to shagging your rich slut models and get out of my life." She hissed.

"Is this because of last night?"

"No. it's for what happened _after _last night."

"Bella, open the door." I ordered.

And she did.

Her face was covered in cuts and bruises. Around her neck was a chain of small bruises like some body had prodded her hard, like if they wanted to make a small necklace reminding her of them.

She stood in the doorway, one hand on the door the other on her hip. I was speechless.

"See? Not such a pretty bitch now, am I? This world is not for you, Edward, because behind every single door you'll walk through, you should take a look around and see the damage that would be always _right _behind you." She hissed. Her eyes were narrowed, and her arms were tight, the bruises on them bulging.

"Bella, you think I did this on _purpose_? That I _wanted _this to happen to you?" I whispered, widening my arms and shaking my head.

"Edward, it's not a matter of _want_. It's a matter of _thinking_ before you take action. And you haven't thought about what might happen, did you? Mingling with impractical people like us. Follow your world, Edward, don't try to make your world turn into mine, because it _won't work._"

"What are you talking about, Bella? What is WRONG with you? You are so sweet and nice and loveable one minute and then twelve hours later you're a slut faced ho-bag! Do you think I do this ALL THE FUCKING TIME? That I kill myself trying NOT to see the one girl a might bring damage into her life? Do you think I sit a round all day, drinking from a bottle of alcohol and doing _nothing_? Listen to what you say, Bella, and think before you speak." I turned round and walked calmly to the door, but wasn't so calm when I closed it behind me.

I didn't expect Bella to follow me.

And she didn't.


	9. Chapter 9

**CHAPTER 9**

**SORRY**

**BPOV**

I didn't want it to end like that between us. Christ, I didn't want it to _end._ When he talked to me it was like I was the only one there and that feeling wasn't _right_. I was getting married for fuck sake! What was the point in blowing the whole thing up _now_? What would I do with rent and bills? Taxes and food? Clothes and life?

There was nothing.

There was no one.

There was only a dead end for me to face.

And I was going straight at it, not bothering to look both ways.

"Think before you speak" was Edwards parting words, and maybe he was right, but did I really need something to make Mike react with so much venom? I was already bruised and broken; I didn't need Edward fucking Cullen to finish the job. I wasn't sorry I sent him away, but those eyes . . . the eyes of a pained person, the eyes of a nightmare coming true. I had promised him not to leave him, to always be there when he needed me and I did.

Maybe I had caused a greater pain to _him _than I would ever cause myself! He was having a tough time, I knew. His father was a bastard, his mother didn't give a shit, and his brother was too in love with his girlfriend to notice . . . he was a small fish in a big sea.

His face had turned shocked then angry when I had said, "not such a pretty bitch now, am I?" what if he really didn't care what I looked like? What if he really liked me because of my personality?  
_Too late now, isn't it? You can't even call him or send him a letter because you don't know his address or number. You screwed it up big time, and now you're gonna face the big world all on your own._

I shut the taunting voice out and hurried to the kitchen, boiling water with salt for pasta and laying the table neatly.

Mike wanted everything ready for when he came home, and I would do so. I would do what he wanted until he was tired of me and chucked me out.

_There's always the internet of course . . . you're computer is untraceable and you have access to every closed off from public file in USA. Might as well try it . . ._

I stopped where I was, knife and fork in hand, listening to the other voice in my head. It was right. Mike liked to be the 'hard guy' and he had very computer designed untraceable. I finished setting up the table and glanced quickly at the clock, grabbing her mobile from her pocket.

"Mike? When are you back?" I asked, innocently.

"Oh, er . . . I'm-I'm a little busy today, y'know? I won't be back until the afternoon, Hon. Sorry." The giggle of a girl sounded from the other line, and I smiled. As long as there was someone to entertain him . . .

"Oh, that's _fine_. Really, no problem. I just want to know what time so I'll be ready for you." I whispered the 'ready for you' and Mike chuckled quietly.

"'bout four? Three? See ya, babe." He hung up and I sighed in relief. If he came back at three that left me four hours, but if he left at four that gave me another hour to work in this thing. I slid the phone in my pocket and headed quickly to our room, opening the closet and stroking the top shelf, trying to feel the box where the laptop and all the gadgets were.

_Jackpot!_ I lifted the heavy box from the top, and gently let it fall to the big king sized bed. I closed the curtains and just looked at the box for a minute, not really seeing it.

This was wrong. I shouldn't be doing this, it was WRONG! But what choice did I have?

No choice.

One choice.

Choices? What did it matter? I was trapped one way or the other.

Streets or good life?

Money or poverty?

I chose money.

**Sorry if this is short but the idea I had went really well with the next chapter! Bear with me! I hope you're enjoying it and if you have any other ideas to spice it up, PM me!!**

**REVIEW!!!**


	10. Chapter 10

**CHAPTER 10**

**OVER AND OVER**

_**NAME**_ _**EDWARD**_

_**SURNAME: **__CULLEN_

_**AGE:**_ 19

_**HSITORY: **_UNAVAILABLE

_**PHONE NUMBER: **_ 0

_**E-MAIL ADRESS ADRESS**_: UNAVAILABLE

_**WORK ADRESS: **_UNAVAILABLE

_**FATHER: **_CARLISLE CULLEN, 40

_**MOTHER: **_ESME CULLEN, 39

_**SIBLINGS?**_ EMMETT CULLEN, 20; ALICE CULLEN, 19 – ADOPTED AFTER BIRTH

UNKNOWN

So I couldn't phone him, I couldn't write to him, and I couldn't go see him in person.

Shit.

The last resource was e-mail, but Mike didn't want an e-mail. He had said, "What's the point in having e-mail when you're friends are a phone call away? You pay less, too. Mobile to mobile is free as is landline to landline.

_What if you secretly make one? You don't have to tell Mike. _I moved the hair out of my face and sighed. Clicking on 'exit' I returned to the homepage and typed in better be worth it.

A blue page came up with a button saying, 'new account'. I followed the steps quickly and made an account and then wrote,

_Dear Edward,_

_Please forgive me for what I had done. I didn't mean to treat you that way. Do you understand what I am going through? Mike is a piece of shit and he doesn't understand that I do not want him. I'm doing my best not to fall in love with you – you have so many girls saying they love you that you probably lost count! – And it's really difficult when you are so nice and listen to what I have to say._

_It's not your fault Mike does these things to me. I'm stupid. I shouldn't've gotten myself in this mess; I should've stayed home and listened to my father._

_I was a 16 year old teenager who was in love. Can you blame me?_

_I have wanted to runaway ever since, but where? How? Why?  
Mike would have the whole city looking for me in no time and if I found a flat, how would I pay for it? I'm not trying to make you feel sorry for me. I don't care what you think of me._

_You might think I'm a prostitute as you might think I'm a rich pretty bitch. And I don't care._

_I'm sorry,_

_Yours forever,_

_Bella swan._

I hit send and stared at the empty screen.

So that was it.

No going back.

Ever.

If he read my e-mail and came back? What would I do then? And if he didn't? I was risking my life for nothing! I should've thought more about this.

I glanced at the clock and saw that a whole two hours had gone by.

Gasping, I packed everything away and slid the box back in place, heart crashing against my chest. Grabbing keys and jacket, I paused in the doorway and wrote a quick note to Mike.

_Gone out for a walk. Be back soon, love bellaxxx_

I went for a drive to clear my head, and waited for Mike to phone and kill me.


	11. Chapter 11

**CHAPTER 11**

**LET GO**

**NO POV**

He lay on his bed, a guitar lying across his body, strumming the strings aimlessly. Words and notes flew around his head, but as he tried to grasp on a melody, they disappeared.

He stared sadly at the ceiling, his beautiful mouth forming into a pout. Why was life so hard? He strummed the strings again, the soft sound carrying through the life empty room. _Drim, drim, drim _went the strings.

"Drim, drim, drim, drum, drum, dream . . . dream's . . .," he whispered under his breath. He leaned over the side of the bed and picked up the nearly empty bottle of vodka. Tipping it to his lips, his eyes turned automatically to the window, watching the evening rain spatter on his daily-cleaned windows.

_Ping! _Went his computer. He stood up, wobbling slightly on his drunken feet.

E-mail. Probably fan or junk.

Isabellaswan . . . not one he has seen before. He sat down on the chair and leaned forward, hand on mouse and clicked slowly 'open'

_Dear Edward,_

_Please forgive me for what I had done. I didn't mean to treat you that way. Do you understand what I am going through? Mike is a piece of shit and he doesn't understand that I do not want him. I'm doing my best not to fall in love with you – you have so many girls saying they love you that you probably lost count! – And it's difficult when you are so nice and listen to what I have to say._

_It's not your fault Mike does these things to me. I'm stupid. I shouldn't've gotten myself in this mess; I should've stayed home and listened to my father._

_I was a 16-year-old teenager who was in love. Can you blame me?_

_I have wanted to runaway ever since, but where? How? Why?  
Mike would have the whole city looking for me in no time and if I found a flat, how would I pay for it? I'm not trying to make you feel sorry for me. I don't care what you think of me._

_You might think I'm a prostitute as you might think I'm a rich pretty bitch. And I don't care._

_I'm sorry,_

_Yours forever,_

_Bella swan._

He sagged in his chair and held his head din his quivering hands. _Yours forever Bella Swan . . . yours forever Bella SwanyoursforeverBellaSwanyoursforeverBellaSwan . . . _the words ran together as his stoned mine took in the unreachable meaning. Yours forever meant she was his forever, but that was impossible. How could she be his forever when she was Newton's forever? She had no way out.

He couldn't blame her for being a teenager in love, but nor could he come round the fact that she was getting married in a matter of weeks. Could he change it between them? Could he make her see _he _was the right one for her? He would promise her the world. He would stop drinking, smoking, singing, eating,

She was doing her best _not _to fall in love with him. Not like his numerous girl fans yelling at him at concerts, or in the streets or at clubs, disco's, parties, I love you. He always winked, smiled and waved, waiting for true love to hit him between the eyes.

And now that it _did_ . . . it hurt. More than he could ever imagine, it hurt. He wanted to lie down and never get up, to drink until he dropped, to smoke until he croaked, to sleep until he slipped into coma, to walk until he was lost, to leave and die alone somewhere concealed.

But if he did that . . . what was in it for his father? Nothing and that was good. What was I it for his mother? Angst and shame, maybe a little shame wouldn't do any harm. What would happen to the family name? Disappear into centuries of worthlessness to join the other lost tales.

Dramatic! But those were the only words his foggy head could master.

The mouse hovered over the delete button, but then blinking hurriedly and groaning in frustration, he hit the reply button instead . . .

_Bella,_

_I am the one who is sorry._

_I am writing this when I am drunk and stoned, so don't ask me what it means and don't listen to what I say which is stupid._

_Not falling in love with me is hard, I know, but not falling in love with _you _is even harder. Haven't you gathered WHY I wanted to see you so early in the mornings? Didn't you understand WHY I was running the risk to see you? You obviously didn't._

_All my life I have waited for someone as caring, loving, and loveable as you. The only time I found her, she is engaged and destined to marry an arsehole who doesn't love her, shags so many people he lost count – not that I'm one to talk but I did it in good reason – and beats her up._

_Bella, I am offering you the good life, but you are hard headed and what you want you get._

_You want a loser as your husband, and that's what you get._

_Sorry,_

_Edward Cullen_

He checked through it twice, thinking slowly so his dead brain could catch up.

He hit send and lay back on the bed, swigging from the bottle of vodka and strumming his guitar.

Bella Swan sat in her car, drumming her fingers on the wheel, waiting and hoping for something to happen. It was stupid of course. Nothing good ever happened to Bella Swan. Her life was upside down and around since she was sixteen and moved to that damned town called Forks. Edward had been a junior like herself, but he was too reserved and busy to take notice of her, the new girl. His friend Emmett, who looked like a giant teddy bear, had always been quite nice to her, helping her out and taking her around the first day. His other friend Jasper had had a weird effect on her, almost calming but not quite, like her feelings had been pushed into a small box for her to open later on. Alice Cullen, the girl obsessed with clothes and parties was always nagging at Edward for a night out . . . and now that he partied every night and dressed up like a model, she didn't look happy. Actually, she looked drawn out and anxious, like she couldn't wait until this all ended.

Bella fingered her engagement ring, the most beautiful bit of jewellery Mike had ever given her. A set of crystals set in a small arch of cold. The arch was on its back, the ends forming small eyes and the crystals in it blinked in the light.

The day they first met was in Biology. She had to sit next to Edward, but he was late talking to his sister. Mike had come beside her and asked her how she found school?

"You want me to be honest? It's crap." he had lughed and that's how it all started. The phone calls, texts, cards, letters, e-mails, IM's, walks, kisses, stroking, loving, talking, whispering, laughing, chuckling, nudging, watching, waiting, wanting . . .

Watching.

Waiting.

Wanting,

For what?

For when?  
Why?


	12. Chapter 12

**I guess you have noticed by now that the chapter titles are song titles. Mainly three days grace, 30 seconds to mars, avril lavigne, Hilary duff . . . the song lyrics that Edward sings are three days grace.**

**I hope you like this chapter and REVIEW!!!!**

**CHAPTER 12**

**PAIN**

**EPOV.**

_Whaddyatthinkheisisisdoooinghere . . .floorwetwhy?drinksmoke. . . yeahthanks noprobmate . . .haveanother,_

Words ran together, water covered my unconscious body.

_No . . . yeah smoke byenoyeahwhy? Waitsorryloveyou . . . whatshedoinghere? gettimupheslonelywecanheelp. ... .Helphimmaybenowhy? Dunnowhassup? Geddimupmate!_

"No." I groaned.

_Poorguy . . . aw sweet talk him... what a babe_

_Hands off hesminegeddoff_

_Hesdrunkenyftodie!_

_He's drunk enough to die . . . _my eyes flew open and I stared at an unfamiliar face, her eyes ringed with the most atrocious colours you could imagine. A belt-like skirt and flash top covered her body.

"Go away, what do you want? Money? Sex?" the same words I had asked Bella that night.

"Ooh, he's awake! The latter _por favor._" I groaned and moved so I was on my knees, only to fall back down again. The girls laughed and helped me to my feet. I swayed slightly and stumbled back a few steps. The first girls arm wrapped itself round my waist, a hand exploring the inside of my jacket.

Hookers.

The word rushed through my minds, and I suddenly felt like throwing up.

Pulling away, I stumbled to the broken bottle where a gold chain hung limply from a shard of glass. I picked it up and fingered the familiar grooves and diamond studs so small, they were not bigger than your little finger.

I chained it round my neck, where it hung the past fifteen years.

"Ah babes, how much do you know about me?" I asked, shaking slightly on my unstable legs. The girls giggled sexily. One of them sat on the wall, hitching her skirt further up her stick-like legs and started smoking a very strong cigarette.

Weed.

"We know that you like what we can give you for just a couple of dollars. We know that lots of guys like you get tired of, well . . . _normal _sex." _Normal _sex? How many other ways did they know? What the fuck . . .?

"What the fuck?" I repeated, tasting ever word like shit in my mouth.

"Do we have to explain EVERYTHING? Isn't that, like, up to the guy/man?" I suddenly got the picture loud and clear. And burst into laughter. The two girls exchanged looks and smiled at me.

"Riiiiiiiiiight. Look girls, I have NO idea what you heard of me, but I do not have sex with prostitutes. Soz to disappoint you . . ." I felt a little bit sober now, but I froze as the first girl – the smoker – laughed saying a name I'd rather she'd not said.

"Isabella Swan." She giggled, snapping her tongue against her teeth. I froze, one hand dangling by my side, while the other supported me on a nearby wall.

"Excuse me?" I whispered.

"Oh, you know her?" I nodded and she continued, "She was our . . ._ colleague_ for a while. Nothing serious, just offering once in a while before that fit guy Mike took her away."

"And what exactly has she got to do in this conversation I am trying NOT to have?" I hissed, my eyes narrowing dangerously.

"Isn't that her car?" she asked, pointing a perfect red – Alice says it's 'whore red' so it fits perfectly – at a car parked at the end of the road. It was late. What would she be doing outside at this time of night?

I nodded, answering her question and stumbled drunkenly over to the car, coughing every now and then and searching my mind for some suitable questions as to WHY exactly she was there. I rapped the window by the driver's seat sharply three times. A figure jumped inside, and a pair of chocolate brown eyes stared at me in shock. As the eyes registered who I was, the figure jumped out of the car and wrapped her strong arms around me, kissing me on the neck.

I wasn't sure how to react. I though the e-mail had made it plain that hanging around with me was a stupid idea! What was she on???

I gently pushed her away from me and tried to steady myself on my feet.

"Oh, Edward! That e-mail was so stupid! I shouldn't've sent it and you weren't meant to reply!" she hissed, jabbing me in the chest with her long finger.

I shamelessly stared at her mouth as her red lips turned suggestively into a pout. She had a bottom lips so lovely that made me want to grab it between my teeth and gently bite it.

"Why didn't you want me to reply? I always reply to my fans, babe." I slurred. What an idiot.

"I am NOT a fan. I wrote you an e-mail because . . . I felt bad. I felt bad for everything that happened between us, and I wanted to clear the air before stuff got out of control." I laughed a little and grabbed her arms, dragging her so she was pressed tightly against me. Not in a hug, though.

I bent my head and did what my drunken mind told me to do. I grabbed her bottom lip between my teeth and bit it gently, and then proceeded to kiss her, not only on the lips but down her neck and her ear as well.

Bella gasped and tried to pull away, but I kept her firmly in place.

"Edward, stop it! Edward get off!" I kissed her a little softer, and she collapsed in my arms, kissing me back and running her hand down my spine. I shivered a little and pulled away for a moment, so I could hook one of her legs behind my knee and press her against the wall, and then I kissed her harder than ever.

So yeah, I was drunk and I had NO IDEA whatsoever of what I was doing.

Her hands were all over me. On my back, on my chest, her fingers tangling in my hair, or tracing my jaw line.

I groaned and pulled away. She dragged me to her car and pushed me into the passenger seat while she walked quickly to the driver's side. My head was spinning and I didn't know what to do, so I simply slumped forward and rested my head lightly on the dashboard.

"Where do you live?" she asked, none too nicely after the super snogging marathon we just had.

"Somewhere or other." I muttered, lifting my head and looking out of the window at the rushing buildings.

"That doesn't help, Edward! Do you realise what you did? I'm getting married, for gods' sake!" she hissed nastily.

"Oh it wasn't all ME doing the work, babe! You were pretty much into it, too, so don't you pile all of this on me." I growled, slamming a fist on my leg. I was sobering up, but I also started to feel a little, er, nauseous. I clutched my stomach and hissed, "Stop the car, Bella. I'm gonna puke." Bella obediently pulled over and I stumbled out, making it to the side of the road before falling to my knees and throwing up my whole life meals.

I heard Bella come up behind me, and a second later, she was stroking my hair and rubbing my back.

When I was done, I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and stood up, heading back to the car.

"Where do you live?" Bella patiently repeated. I told her and she took the first turning, heading for my road. Many questions were whirring around my foggy head, why did she come looking for me when she didn't care? Why was she so close to me in the kissing department one minute and clod and bitchy the next? Why was she marrying Mike? Why did I send that stupid e-mail? Why do I drink? Why do I do bud and drugs? . . .

Bella parked the car in front of my house and switched the engine off. I stared at her for a minute, trying to understand what she was thinking. It wasn't easy. Her face was all closed off and her eyes were closed. At the end, I gave up and whispered,

"What are you thinking in that busy mind of yours?" I ran a finger through her hair and tugged gently at the ends.

"Stuff. I better get going, Ed, or Mike'll get suspicious as to WHY I left in the middle of the fucking night." I snatched my hand back and got out of the car, walking quickly to the door without looking back.

Shit, I was trying to make the most of our time together and she doesn't give a shit.


	13. Chapter 13

**CHAPTER 13**

**PATIENCE**

**BPOV**

Mike was waiting for me when I got home that night. Well, it's not like he wouldn't! He was so overprotective it was sick. The opening of the door was accompanied by a torrent of questions that I impatiently brushed away.

Mike grabbed my arm as I tried to flee for my room and pressed me against the wall not like Edward had done.

He was soooo masochistic.

"I asked you where you've been." He hissed in my face, his breath smelling horrible of whisky and some other strong alcohol he found in my kitchen. He pressed his lips against mine and I tried to arouse those feelings I once felt for him, but the _taste _of him was nothing like the kisses Edward had given me. His breath had tasted of chocolate and Jack Daniels.

Mikes tasted of cigarettes, whisky and something else I couldn't put my finger on. After a minute of standing stock-still and kissing him half-heartedly, I pushed him away firmly, biting my lower lip.

"I've been out, Mike. With a few friends, that's all. Sorry I was late." I whispered, licking my lower lip. I shrugged out of my jacket and set it gently down on the sofa before disappearing through the door leading to the bathroom.

I turned the radio on and stepped into the shower, washing my hair thoroughly, trying to scrub every part that Edward had touched, kissed or caressed.

By the time I stepped out, my skin was flaming red and raw. I dressed simply in tracksuit bottoms and a tight fitting white vest.

Mike was already in bed, sleeping sweetly as I slid under the covers, his arm wrapped around my waist and drew me closer. If I was younger and innocent, I might've been flattered, but with everything I know now, him wrapping an arm around me was a sign of overprotection. Of someone who didn't want to let go and move on.

_Edward won't let go, Bella. He's still running after you and you are running after him in the opposite direction, _I though helplessly as tears spilt down my cheeks.

_You cried,_

_And I wiped away all of your tears._

_You screamed,_

_And I wiped away all of your fears . . . _ Evanescence's song _my immortal _played soundly in my head, lulling me gently to sleep.

I awoke the next morning feeling strangely perturbed. I knew something was wrong, I didn't have to see Edward and Mike snarling at each other in the kitchen to figure THAT out.

"What are you _doing _here?" I asked. I meant it to come out more like a 'what are _you _doing here?' or 'what are _you _doing _here?_'. You know, in a hissy bad gir voice, but the way I said it, it sounded more like was soooo pleased to see him. Which was far from the truth, I assure you.

Well, maybe I was a _little _happy to see him.

"Bella, I came to say sorry-'' Edward began but was rudely cut off by Mikes hissing response.

"Sorry? For WHAT? What is he talking about, Bells?" he growled, turning his vengeful glare on me. I squeaked and moved out of his way, putting the kitchen table between him and me.

"Er, we met yesterday when Jamie and iu were clubbing and we fought over something i can't remember." I reasoned. Edward was staring at me like I'd gone nuts, but recovered quickly as Mike glared at him.

"Yeah, I snagged her bottle of beer without asking, so she was pissed off. Mind if I apologize?" he sneered before giving me a sunny smile and apologizing, all the while his eyes were trying to understand WHAT THE FUCK was gouing on in my head.

"Bella, you don't have a friend called Jamie." Mike mused.

"Er, right. I met her yesterday, her car broke down and I gave her a lift to the club she was meeting some friends. They phoned and said they couldn't come so she asked me to go clubbing woth her. So I did." I mended quiclky. This was getting nasty and I didn't like the way Edward kept fiddling with the straps on his guitar case. It was covered in badges saying weord stuff like 'lost time is never found again' and 'don't look back. Something might be gaining on you.' They were old sayings but they seemed to make sense in the light of the situation.

"So, if I call this _Jamie _or yours, I'd actually get a truthful tale of last nights events?" he asked, aching an eyebrow.

"I don't have her number. And she lives out of town." I said, waving my hand out of the window, indicating something or other.

Mike frowned and Edward blew his cheeks out in annoyance. He shook his head, and ran a hand through his hair messing it up more than ever. I had to resist the embarrassing urge to reach out and curl my finger around one of his bronze curls. I blushed when Edward winked at me and slung his guitar over his shoulder.

"Right. Well, that done, I gotta go or my father will have my manager put security out for me. sorry to, er, have UPSET you, Mike. Take care of her." And with that he left, banging the door shut behind him. I listened to his feet thunder down the metal stairs.

And then it was war.

Literally.

"You listen to me, bitch," mike hissed in my face, grabbing a handful of my hair and slamming me into the table, "Listen, we are going to be wed in a few weeks whether you like it or not. I don't care how many times you shag the bastard or how much money you get for doing it I don't want any _shit _in my life to handle, yes? I already got you, and that's a burden to bear. Now, get out of my site before I do something I WON'T regret." He let go of my hair and leaned on the kitchen counter, a little self-satisfied smile on his handsome (?) face.

I walked quickly to the door before turning round and hissing straight and wild,

"What if I _don't_


	14. Chapter 14

**Thx 4 ur reviews! I have a tiny problem. I swap from past to present and back again in my stories. If you spot this, can you please PM me? I need to fox this p before my exams . . . anyway, enjoy this chapter and REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!**

**CHAPTER 14**

**TOUR**

**EPOV**

My father fixed us a tour for the end of June, so we'll be travelling around America for the whole summer. He gave me a whole stack of papers to sign and a list of song titles I had to write the lyrics to.

I mean, come on! Who even does these things anymore??? My father, apparently.

Bastard.

So there I was, quiet and for once sober – haha I was drinking _camomile _my sister had made so it would 'calm my nerves a bit before the show, hon' – a pile of papers scattered all over the place trying to get something to rhyme with 'eyes'. It's REALLY hard to write songs when you have no ideas _and _your father set the fucking titles! I usually write random lyrics and then fit the titles at the end when I'm sure what they're about.

Don't ask.

So, Whaddya wanna know? About this morning?

Ah, let's just say it wasn't how I expected it to be. In my forever drunken and over-drugged thoughts, I would enter the apartment and beg forgiveness. She in turn would smile and kiss me softly with those sexy lips (I'm _drooling_ at the _thought_) and we would . . . well, you know.

I hadn't expected it to be like THIS. First, I didn't anticipate that Mike her sexfriend would be there. Second, I wanted to tell her I was leaving for the summer, but I couldn't do that with Mike there now, could I? not if I wanted my face permanently fixed to the wall. Thirdly, well . . . I haven't got to that on yet. I'm a slow thinker, OK? And I have these songs to prove it!

I was listening to some piano classic music when my hand started to write something down on a music sheet. Notes and small words flowed out of my pen . . .

Ah, how poetic.

mug of camomile in one hand, sheet music and pen in the other, I walked slowly to my piano. I set the mug gently down on the top of the piano – my room is five times the size of your average living room – and ran my hands experimentally over the keys. It was a birthday gift from Rosalie Hale and Emmett when I was ten years old. I used it four times because my father wanted me to practice rock and not classic, so the stuff I had written down on my music sheet was something totally different from anything I ever wrote.

And then the music started to flow . . .

After a few experiments with keys and adjustments, I took my pen and scribbled quickly over the top _Bella's Lullaby. _Don't ask HOW I knew it was Bella's lullaby or WHY I named it Bella's lullaby. I just did, so get over it.

My phone beeped with a message and I fished it out of a pair of jeans lying on the floor.

_You better get those songs finished by tomorrow, boy, or else. _

Hah, original. I typed back _don't worry BEST DAD. I'll get them finished before you even know it_, and set it back down on the bed, turning it off.

I took my keys, leather jacket, disconnected phone and headed out f the house to my black Porsche.

A mans best friend.

I was walking slowly on a side of a street when something caught my eyes. I turned my head just a little bit and saw Bella Swan, in a café; her head bent over a mug of coffee to hide the tears flowing freely form her chocolate brown eyes.

Before I even knew what I was doing, I had slid in the booth and tapped her hand gently.

"Hey, what's the matter Bella?" I whispered. She jumped and looked up, her hand tightening around her mug.

"Nothing, Edward, I'm fine, OK?" she hissed. I felt like laughing. God, she was so bad at lying!

"If by fine you mean you cry _all the time_, especially when it's raining them I MIGHT believe you, but if by fine you mean you got thins sorted it our with your sexfriend . . ." I started to stroke her hand and rub comforting circles on he knuckles.

"Don't call him that." She growled, flinching away from my hand. OK, that hurt. What did _I _do? _She _was the one who started the whole thing off! Taking me back to her flat and all . . .

I glared at her, leaned back in my seat and crossed my arms over my chest.

"It's the truth, Bella, whether you like it or not. He doesn't value you as a companion for life! Can't you see? He was cheating on you, in front of you, at your _engagement party_! I'm not being mean coz I feel like it. I always say the truth." _Except when it's about how I feel_, I added silently. I glared at her some more and her face crumpled. Tears started to spill out of her eyes again and she covered her face with her hands.

Oops.

"Aw, Bella. Come on, I didn't mean it like that. You're right, I'm horrible and selfish. Come on, don't be like that." I whispered, coaxing her to look at me without her hands covering her face.

"You're right, though, Edward. That's all he's ever interested in. God, I am such an idiot! My father had told me, Angela had told me . . . all of my friends had warned me and I didn't listen . . ." she sobbed.

So I did the only thing I could do.

I slid across the seats so I was sitting near her and pulled her onto my lap, cradling her gently as she cried.

By this time, I noticed that quite a few people were staring at me with their mouths wide open in shock. Mmm, maybe that bad -boy- rock- star image didn't fit really well with the sweet -boy- girl- hugger image I was wearing now.

Urgh, if anyone tried to take a photo NOW I was going to beat 'em up.

When they saw me glaring at them, they all looked away and started collecting there things together, rushing out of the café a minute later.

I stroked her hair and murmured nonsense in her ear until she calmed down enough to talk.

So we talked . . .

And talked . . .

And talked . . .


	15. Chapter 15

**CHAPTER 15**

**EPOV**

By the time we left the café, it was pelting down with rain. I had parked a little – er, maybe not – down the road, so I took Bella's hand and we ran all the way.

When we got to the car, we were soaked through and we looked like we'd just stepped out of a shower but forgot we had our clothes on.

Bella was giggling when I stomped to the driver's side and got in, shaking myself like a dog and getting water all over her. I didn't expect her to cheer up so quickly after my little, er, pep talk. She smiled at me, her yes shining with something that wasn't tears and I found myself smiling back, lost in those chocolate brown eyes.

"You're soaked." She whispered, running a hand through my wet hair. A shiver ran down my spine at her touch in a very pleasing way.

"You too." I whispered back, leaning in. she closed the gap between us and kissed me softly, nothing like the night I had kissed her.

Well, I was drunk then, and I wasn't now.

I cupped the back of her head and kissed her back, running one finger up and down the back of her neck a curling it round a lock of hair.

As soon as we started, she pulled away, blushing a little.

I sighed and started the car, the rain sloshed from side to side on my windscreen and the heater started up as soon as I put the car in gear and drove away from the small town centre. Why did this happen all the time? She'd kiss me, make me want her and then she'd pull away like it was this big mistake that she never intended to happen.

We were silent for the rest of the drive until she saw where we were.

"What!?! Edward, take me home! I'm cold and wet and I need some clean clothes!" she hissed. I drummed my fingers tunelessly on the steering wheel while I waited for the gate to open. My mouth was pressed into a stern line like my mothers when she is annoyed. Not that I was annoyed. Well, maybe a _little. _

"I'm not taking you back, Bella. You aren't safe there. Do you REALLY mind staying the night? I'm not going to do anything, OK? I promise I'll keep my hands to myself." I hissed back. She dried up and turned away.

The car inched forward as the gates opened. The garden was flooding and the house look like something from a haunted novel.

Bella sighed and stepped out of the car as I parked. She wouldn't look at me, touch me or even _talk _to me.

"Come on, I'll give you some dry clothes to wear and you can use the shower in my room. Emmett's here so his girlfriend probably is too, and she stays ages in the bathroom. Er, you can sleep in my bed tonight and I'll sleep on the couch in the room . . ." I was babbling and she knew it. Bella was the only girl who had this effect on me. the effect of making me look and sound stupid, making me try to make her happy, to take her away from the life she'd lived until then.

Shit, I was going crazy.

Bella smiled at me and shook her head a little. I blushed and took her elbow, towing her up the stairs and into my room.

Thank God Esme had cleaned the room before I came back. All the clothes that had been scattered around the room were neatly folded on a chair by the window, and the only mess you could see was the one on my king sized bed. The sheets of paper were still scattered all over the place, my black electric guitar lying in the middle of it all, my lucky plectrum – the one with the black background and flames on – was tucked neatly between the strings.

"Urm, the bathroom is that way and Alice won't get home until later tonight so I can't give you any of her clothes but you could wear a T-shirt and a pair of trakkies that don't fit me anymore," yeah, so I had nothing else to give! She was looking all moody and angry and she kept staring out of the window, not looking me in the eyes. Giving up, I threw a pair of black trakkies and my old lucky T on the bed and stormed out.

Cow. She might as well be grateful that I didn't send her back to her . . . I am too nice to say what I _really _thought of him. So I left and headed for the kitchen where I knew my best friend was at the table.

And no, I don't mean my bottle of vodka – even though I REALLY needed a drink now.

"Alright, Edward?" jasper asked. As I thought, he was sitting at the kitchen table drinking some Coke from my mother's favourite glass.

She would kill ME if she found out.

"Yeah, I'm fine." I answered, my eyes roving to the bottle of Jack Daniels near the fridge. Silently, I fumed. You NEVER put a bottle of Jack Daniels near any too hot or too cold surface if you don't want it to taste disgusting.

My fingers brushed against the bottle before it was snatched from under me.

"OI! Jazz give it back NOW!" I yelled. Jasper waggled and eyebrow in my direction and threw the bottle into the bin.

"Nope, too late. Your father said no drinking before tonight's performance. Your fans are starting to get suspicious about what happens 'behind the scenes'," he made quotation marks in the air with his fingers and rolled his eyes, "Edward, I'm not just saying this to save our career, but because I care about you. I don't want you to end up in the gutter where all the other failed pop stars end. I mean, just look at Britney Spears! Between alcohol and drugs, she isn't herself. Her songs are shit, her life is upside down and inside out, her looks are just _looks _that don't mean anything anymore. Now that the law has taken her kids away, she's worse than ever. Man, I don't want you that way, OK? Try to restrain yourself a little bit with the alcohol and try to lay off the weed and pills, too. It won't be long until your father realises what's going on, OK?" Jasper was part of my band, too. He played drums and sometimes keyboard and he sometimes sung with me.

I know. It's a whole family business thing.

Jasper is soooo in love with my sister, Alice – well, adopted sister - and the only times he comes here now is because of rehearsals or because he's going out with Alice.

_I _don't exist anymore. _I _am just the one who brings the money in and makes him rich.

"Thanks Jazz, but I can handle myself. You don't have to talk to me, too. I have a person who is paid for it." I left the room and bounded up the stairs, almost throwing myself face down on the bed.

What a girl I am.

Bella was nowhere to be seen and I thought I was alone for a while, so I let the tears flow down my cheeks and sobbed. I crawled to the corner of the bed and buried myself under the duvet, biting on a corner of a cushion to stop myself from making any noise.

The side of the bed gave way and I felt a hand stroke my back and the hair off my face. I kept my eyes squeezed shut and my hands balled into fists under the duvet. I really thought that it was Jasper and I wanted to push him away, but the hands were too tender and gentle to be Jaspers.

"Edward, what's the matter?" a voice whispered. Through the tears, I saw Bella chewing on her lower lip and looking at me in confusion. I groaned, rolling over so my head was hidden by a pile of blood red cushions.

"N-nothing. I'm just tired. Go 'way." I muttered. Bella lay down next to me, wrapped an arm round my waist and kissed my forehead.

"You can tell me anything, Edward." She whispered, kissing my ear.

"No, I can't. You hate me 'coz I won't let you go back to Mike. I know I'm selfish and I know I am an animal, but I don't want you h-hurt. You have no idea how hard it is to live when your father only loves you when you bring money to the family, and your mother hates you coz you're not what she wanted you to be, and my best friend has changed since he met my sis, and my brother doesn't care what happens to me coz I bought it on myself." I sobbed, shrugging away from her touch. Sighing, Bella propped herself up on her elbows, her hair brushing against my cheek as I cried and cried.

She held me the whole time, letting me moan, groan, and cry.


	16. Chapter 16

**Thank you everyone for the reviews! I've decided to add Nickleback and Evanescence songs as chapter titles. If anyone has any idea what songs could be better for certain chapters, fell free to PM me! I hope you like this chapter and REVIEWS WANTED!**

**CHAPTER 16**

**HOW YOU REMIND ME**

**EPOV**

We fell asleep in a tangle of clothes and limbs. I couldn't believe that Bella hadn't run when she saw me crying.

Shit, I NEVER cry! I stopped crying that day when I was five and Emmett decided he was to play with the Red Truck and I decided to hit him round the head with it instead of crying for it. Emmett loved to see me cry, sad little shit.

I opened my eyes and saw that the room door was slightly ajar, but Bella was still asleep next to me, her face resting on the crook of my neck, her arm around my waist and one hand through my hair. She murmured something in her sleep and her face scrunched up in something like pain. I stared in astonishment as her face changed emotion. Pain, fear, worry, sadness, anger, blankness… until finally her face relaxed and the grip around my waist did too.

I closed my eyes and tried to go back to sleep, but I couldn't. Images of my young life popped in and out of vision until I was so fed up with it all, I disentangled myself from Bella and stood up shakily on my legs. Stretching, I looked at the digital clock - $100 – on my bedside table - $1580 – and saw that it was 1.00am. Whoa. We came in when it was about . . . eleven in the morning and it was now 1.00am? That couldn't be right! I jogged lightly down the stairs and found my family – and non – sitting at the table.

"What about the concert?" I husked out. Everyone turned round to look at me and Carlisle shook his head.

"Kid, we had to cancel coz of the tour. You need as much rest as possible if you're gonna tour America. You won't be sleeping much then." Oh, he never thought I _didn't _want to do the stupid tour!

"Oh. How long have I been sleeping?" I asked Jazz.

"Er about . . . 14 hours? I'm not sure though . . ." he looked back at Alice who shrugged and handed me a piece of hot toast. I smiled at her and she seemed surprised for a minute before smiling back. I hadn't cracked a smile in MONTHS. No wonder everybody was looking at me funny.

"What?" I asked, munching on the hot toast.

"Nothing. What makes you so happy? We haven't seen you smile in forever." Esme voiced my thoughts. I shrugged and –smiling – I took a cup from the cabinet and filled it with hot chocolate. Carlisle snorted and left the room, while Rosalie smiled at me knowingly.

"What? Why you smiling at me like that? What have I done?" I blushed. I _blushed _OK? I don't BLUSH or smile or laugh or do anything a happy teen would. Coz I am not a happy teen.

Well, I wasn't a happy teen . . .

"Mmm, you were hugging." She laughed, "And you don't hug, Edward. When you've finished whatever you were doing, you kick 'em out."

Oh. My. God. "You did NOT see us, did you?" I hissed.

"Well, I wanted to see if everything was OK. You hadn't been down for hours and that's not normal coz you can't live without your hourly glass of whisky."

Oh. My. God. "Oh my God," I voiced, "Oh my Fucking God! What the FUCK? Yeah, so we were hugging! She isn't a . . . a . . . one night stand, OK? We haven't even had sex!" I hissed. I bunched up my fists and turned away form her face. This couldn't be happening. I didn't want Bella to find out about how much I felt for her! The only time I _did _say what I felt it was by E-mail and I was drunk!

"Edward, it isn't _bad _to hug someone you care for! I and Emmett hug all the time."

"Don't wanna know." And I left the room.

Bella was still asleep when I went back to bed. Only, she seemed to know I had gone coz as soon as I lifted the sheets to make us both warm, she wrapped me in her arms.

And I felt like crying all over again.

My father was going to ruin this, I knew it. He would say something to her to make her hate me. Why? Why didn't my father want me to have a life? Because he wanted the money, the fame.

But I didn't. I _used _to, but I didn't want it anymore.

"I love you." I whispered in her hair. I hoped she hadn't heard, but I wanted it out of my system. I couldn't go on and pretend she was another hanger on, coz she WASN'T another hanger on. She felt indifferent toward me. She didn't think I was a great god like many do. She thought I was a normal kid with a drug and drinking problem, and I was.

Sighing, I lulled myself to sleep thinking about the music I had written for her that was on the piano.

After something warm to drink, I had a shower. Bella was awake and she seemed to have forgotten what had happened the other night. The crying thing should have freaked her out, but it didn't. Actually, that was OK. That she didn't seem to remember, I mean.

I opened the door and walked back to the room, towelling my hair.

And I stood stock-still.

Bella was sat on my bed, a sheet of paper in her hand. The lullaby I had written for her.

"This is for me?" she whispered. I didn't answer but licked my lips as if I was going to. She looked at me with those big chocolate brown eyes of hers and I blanched. What could I say? What could I say without making it seem as if I felt something for her? I didn't! No way!

Yeah, I did. I felt something for her that I didn't want to and I was trying to convince myself that everything was going to be OK if she didn't know what it was.

"No. Yeah. Maybe." I stuttered. Bella stood up and walked toward me, still wearing my old trakkies and my old lucky T.

"Edward, could you please explain what all of this is about? You reply to my e-mail excusing yourself because you are drunk, then you kiss me long and hard in a alleyway, then you see me in a café and listen to me blabber on about Mike, then you cry. What were you crying about, Edward?" so she _did _remember.

"Stuff. Look Bells, I'm really stressed at the moment, right? What with the tour and stuff. My doctor says it's natural that I cry." I shrugged my shoulders and dropped the towel onto a chair by the window. Bella didn't seem to believe me.

I didn't believe myself.

"Edward, I believe you when you say you're stressed out, but whimpering in your sleep? Saying things like your father not loving you, your mother hating you, your best friend is changing, your brother not caring? Edward please! Do you realise I'M hurting here as well? Because the Edward I met at the Engagement Party, alright he was drunk, but at least he had a dream he wanted to follow. The Edward standing in front of me? Yeah, he looks like he's about top do something stupid to get some attention from his family any second from now." She walked toward me and hugged the life outta me.

"Bella, I'm fine. As long as you're here, I'm fine. I don' want to leave you here and I don't want to do the tour, but my father doesn't care. My father wants me to and I will have to do what he says." I whispered while stroking her hair.

So this wasn't the best thing to say, and it WAS a _bit _dramatic.

But it was the truth.

And the truth hurt.


	17. Chapter 17

**CHAPTER 17**

**SMALL**

_Carlisle Cullen stood outside his son's room, listening to the girl talk. Was it true he was so harmful in his son's eyes? Did Edward really think he didn't love him? Did he really hate himself so much? Is that why he went sideways on drugs, sex and drinking? To forget what his real life is like?_

_Carlisle stood motionless as he heard Edward sob. It was years since he heard that human sound emanate from the room. The girl was talking again now._

"_Don't leave me, Edward. Don't do something stupid to get attention. Please." _

_Carlisle peeked through the gap in the door and saw how hard his son was shaking, the tears flowing freely out of his green eyes as the girl reached out and took him in her arms. _

"_I have to go, Bella. My father wants me to and I will. It'll be the last thing I'll do, though." Carlisle couldn't listen anymore, and he left the corridor, walking steadily down the stairs and into the sitting room.  
_

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I know this chapter was VERY short but I wanted to write this and I didn't know where to put it.

Don't forget to review! I will put links up on my Profile so whoever is interested can get an idea of what Edward is singing in his past and future concerts. I know some people don't like this story because I put Edward in the drunken form no one expected him to be, but what if Carlisle HADN'T been a good father as Edward had hoped for? I decided to write this story after I heard and read the stories on Britney Spears . . . I still love her whatever she did that changed peoples mind . . .!

Anyway, enough with my babbling and excuses! Press the button and review this very short chapter… go on . . .


	18. Chapter 18

CHAPTER 18

**CHAPTER 18**

**ANIMAL I HAVE BECOME **

**BPOV**

I never thought of my future if I stayed with Edward. I knew that I wouldn't be better off with him because of how much he drank alcohol a day, but I knew that he would never beat the crap out of me for staying out with a couple of friends. Mike on the other hand never seemed too happy with me and I knew I couldn't marry him.

"Mike, we need to talk." I informed him as soon as he picked up the phone.

"What now?" he snapped. I bet he had some girl hanging off his arm right now.

"I don't want to marry you." I blurted. Everything was silent on the other line until I heard a crash. Someone screamed in fright and I flinched in pain for whoever the crash had caught.

"Why don't you want to marry me?" he hissed.

"Mike, you don't love me and-''

"YES I DO!" He screamed.

"Mike, if you loved me, you wouldn't be jumping from my bed to another girl's bed, would you? You don't love me and I don't love you, end of story. I don't think marriage will be a good thing for any of us. That's it. I was going to marry you because of your money, because I knew if I lived with you I wouldn't have to worry about bills, rent and food. I'm so, so sorry." And with that, I hung up suddenly feeling hollow inside.

I know saying that stuff about the money was harsh, but he needed to know the truth and I didn't lie. I had never liked to lie, so why was I doing it for him of all people? Why had I told him, now anyway? Where was I going to go? My money wouldn't last forever and my job at Mike's bar was definitely not mine anymore.

I started throwing stuff in a rucksack I never used. Clothes, shoes, drinks, food, books . . . you name it. When the wardrobe was half-empty, the box of computer stuff that belonged to Mike caught my interest. It wouldn't fit in the bag, but I knew he had a bag where the laptop and the gadgets all fit snugly. I grabbed the bag and sorted everything inside, grabbing my coat, keys and bags I rushed out of the flat, down to my car. Throwing the stuff inside, I took the spare key out of its hiding place and locked the flat behind me. I don't know what that was for, because I knew Mike would have a key on him, but I made sure the spare key was in my pocket as I started the car and drove away.

I drove around for what seemed like hours, but when I glanced distractedly at the digital clock on my dashboard it ticked quietly and I noticed that it had just been thirty minutes or so. I drove to a drive-thru and ordered some coke with a hamburger. The lady who passed it to me gave me a sour look as if I had just interrupted a very important conversation between her and a long French manicured fingers girl who was serving drinks. I glared back and made sure to spray her clothes with extra dirt as I sped away. Parking at a small park, I ate my hamburger slowly, shredding the lettuce and throwing it out of the window.

When my mobile rang shrilly, I nearly jumped out of my skin. I fished it out of my jeans pocket and glanced at the ID screen. The number was not one I recognized, but I slid the cover up and said hello in a far away and distracted way.

"OK, for once I am sober and I _need _to tell you this," Edward's voice murmured from the other side. I was shocked. I hadn't expected him to call me… how the fuck did he get my number?

"Go on." I muttered, leaning back in my seat and closing my eyes.

"Bella I know you're getting married, I know you love another man, and I know that maybe I was just a mate in passing but… I think… I think I like you. More than just a mate in passing and I'm leaving soon, and I don't know when I'll be back. Fuck Bella, come see me… let's go out, let's go _do _something. Possibly something that takes me away from my house, that keeps me away from the vast choices of alcohol, please. Please?" the voice on the other side had a pleading edge to it, never like the edges I heard from him before. The pleading edge reminded me of that night he cried; the night he decided, he hated everyone and everything…

"OK" I heard myself say and Edward exhaled happily on the other side.

"Thank you Bella, _thank you_. When can you come over? I'll take you out somewhere nice, OK. Just you and me?" I said yes and arranged to go to his house at about six. That left me another six hours or so. Mike would be at the flat by now, after my theatrical phone call and I had no intention to see him. Still… I needed to shower and change, right? If this was the last time I'd see Edward, I wanted him to remember me, and not forget everything as soon as he met some weird girl at a club.

I made up my mind and drove back to the flat, my heart thudding crazily against my rib cage. I parked – badly – in front of the door and got out, throwing the take away rubbish in a bin near by, and fishing the key out of my pocket.

I fitted the key in the lock…

And watched in horror as the door swung open…


	19. Chapter 19

CHAPTER 19

**A/N: so sorry guys if I havn't updated in age,s but things have gotten a little nasty in scholl and guess what? I was blamed. So I ahd to spend a couple more hours than necessary in the Head of Years office trying to defend myself…. Not an easy task, let me tell you! Lol. Guys, leave reviews PLEASE!! I need some nice things to read right now…**

**Anyway, go read these chapters.**

**WARNING: not much left of the story… maybe two or three chappies…**

**CHAPTER 19**

**EPOV**

So I did it. I called her and asked her out, didn't I? And she said yes.

So, right now I'm in my recording studio thingy, fucking up a new song that _I wrote_ and having my agent scream at me that I 'ain't good enough for the real world'.

Yeah you got it. My own fucking FATHER is my agent. And oh, it's so embarrassing.

I'm singing the first chorus of my song 'Never too Late' and I'm messing up the same part over and over again:

_Even if I say  
It'll be alright  
Still I hear you say  
You want to end your life  
Now and again we try  
To just stay alive  
Maybe we'll turn it around  
'Cause it's not too late  
It's never too late_

I'm messing it up coz I can't get my mind off Bella… she sounded weird when I called her, as if she hadn't expected anyone to contact her. Oh God, she wasn't planning suicide was she? I would if I had a boyfriend like Mike. No, let me rephrase that. If I had a _girl_friend who acted the same way Mike did then I would commit suicide.

Or decide to run away with her best mate as long as she's hot.

Whatever.

So instead of singing: _You want to end your life_, I'm singing: _You wanna end my life_.

See?

"Look, son! You have a tour in less than four weeks, OK? And this will be your starting song on all the cursed performances you'll be setting up, and I will not – will NOT get Jasper to do your backing vocals if YOU can't get the fucking chorus right!" he grabs me by my shirt collar and slams me into the wall. The guitar vibrates against the impact and I curse loudly as I cut my finger on one of the metal strings. I watch the blood droplets fall to the floor and stick my finger into my jeans pocket.

"Fine! I don't wanna do the damn tour anyway! Jesus! I'm already nineteen and you're treating me like a five year old! You wanna make me leave? Then you're on the right road, OK? Now get your fucking mitts off me." he drops his hands and takes a step back, his face furious.

I ignore him as he orders me to start again, and let my guitar fall to the floor. I walk out of the studio and grab the first bottle of whisky I can find out of my bag.

Jasper comes up behind me and says, "How come you don't want to do the tour?"

"Coz I don't. coz it's a waste of time and I'll be drunk half of it anyway." I reply lamely. The real reason is because i can't leave Bella. I'm head over heels for her and I'll do anything to get her to love me back. She acts so indifferent of me most of the time it's like she doesn't understand what I'm trying to tell her.

I won't tell her I love her! She'll probably run away screaming 'drunken kid loves me!' I don't think Bella would be so cruel, still I couldn't keep myself from wondering: _why _would she still be hanging around me if she has shown quite clearly how much I irritate her?

Jasper shakes his head at me and walks back into the studio, where I see him saying something to my father. Emmett's laughing his head off, and Rosalie is looking irritated, and everybody's eyes keep snapping back at me. as I jogged out of the studio and into the rain, I started murmuring words of a new song under my breath, a song that described how I felt that moment, and what I wanted…

_I don't know why_

_You wanna follow me tonight_

_When the rest of the world_

_With whom I have crossed against the world_

_Let's me down so_

_With a thousand reasons that I know_

_To share forever in the mist_

_With all the demons it possess_

_Beneath the silver moon_

_Maybe you were right_

_Maybe I was lonely_

_I don't wanna fool_

_I'm tired of being sorry_

_Beneath the ocean drive_

_With all the vampires in the grinds_

_Are all bloodless and blind_

_And longing for a life_

_Beyond the silver moon_

_Maybe you were right _

_Maybe I was lonely_

_I don't wanna fool_

_I'm tired of being sorry_

_I'm still in the street yeah_

_Crying all for you_

_No one sees me_

_But the silver moon_

_So far away_

_So out of space_

_I've trashed my space_

_I've lost my weak_

_I've got to get to you_

_I've got to get to you_

_Maybe you were right_

_Maybe I was lonely_

_I don't wanna fight_

_I'm tired of being sorry_

_I'm still in the street yeah_

_Crying All for you_

_No one sees me_

_But the silver moon_

_Maybe you were right_

_Maybe I was lonely_

_I don't wanna fight_

_I'm tired of being sorry_

_Yeah, yeah, yeah_

Somehow, I tuned this song so I could whistle it, and swigging from a bottle of whisky, I clambered into my black Porsche.

The street lights were barely visible under the buckets of rain washing over my windshield, and with the whisky mixing; it was horribly hard to make out the red lights of the streets and the blurriness my eyes were taking on.

It wouldn't be the first time…

It wouldn't be _too _hard, to just end my life this way. I hated him, hated his goddamned life and the fucking sneer he donned on his face every time he saw me. I was a puppet to him, I was just a puppet…, and I could be the sacrifice that bought his career to an end.

I had the power, and he didn't…

I hated the fact that he would never see me as one of his sons, the way he saw Emmett and Alice, I hated the way he thought I was just a fucker who bought good money in so he could go play poker whenever he wanted. I hated it that it was _me _who paid the goddamned bills, _me _who paid for Alice's education, _me _who paid for the gas in all our cars, _me _who acted more of a father when I was sober than I ever hoped my own would act…

I wanted a father, I _needed _a father. Was that so much to ask? Someone to take care of you? To love you?

My decision was made. I glanced briefly in front of me to make sure I wouldn't crash, fiddled in the glove compartment, produced pen, and paper, and wrote:

**Carlisle, **

**Funny thing I always wanted a father, and instead I got a manager who I could easily kick ass…**

**Never loved you, never will, never done.**

**Soz to disappoint you, Car.**

**Edward. C…..**

Before I stuck it to the window, I added a P.S:

**Bella,**

**Sorry I never got to tell you this in person – sorry I never made to our date, honey.**

**You're the only person I love, the only person who loves you. Don't marry that bastard, please.**

**Keep this in mind: Love is something that must be felt in the heart and not by how much green one's got in his pockets…. **

**Love, Edward. C.**

I taped the note to the windshield and let the car go wherever it wanted.

The car veered off the road and into a wall….

The wail of sirens approached, and I let my eyes close…. Sinking into a world I had wished for since I was born…


	20. Chapter 20

CHAPTER 20

**CHAPTER 20**

**MISSING**

**BPOV**

And I watched in horror as the door swung open…

"Miss. Swan?" a gruff voice asked. I swallowed and stepped inside, my hear thumping against my chest in a frantic voice. The man wore a white shirt with a red cross painted on one shoulder.

Something happened.

Was it Mike? Did something happen to Mike? Was it my fault?

"Y-yes?" I stammered.

"We have news of Edward Cullen. I believe you knew him?" _Edward, _I though, _Edward is hurt_….

"What do you mean I _knew _him? What's going on? Is he OK?" I gasped quickly; leaning up against the wall… if they said _knew _did it mean he was hurt? Possible life endangerment?

"Edward Cullen has been involved in a car accident. We found this taped to his windshield. It is addressed to you." The man handed me a torn piece of paper.

Bella, it said…

**Sorry I never got to tell you this in person – sorry I never made to our date, honey.**

**You're the only person I love, the only person who loves you. Don't marry that bastard, please.**

**Keep this in mind: Love is something that must be felt in the heart and not by how much green one's got in his pockets…. **

**Love, Edward. C.**

He'd decided to hurt himself. He'd decided to kill himself. He decided to leave me, abandon me…

I sank to the floor and pressed the note against my chest, letting the tears fall…

"Miss. Swan? Mr. Cullen is at the hospital in a very critical condition. At the minute he's unconscious. Emmett Cullen has asked for you to go." _Emmett_? He hardly knew me! I guess Edward had mentioned me or something…

I let the medics pull me up and half dragged, half carried me to the white car.

_Beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep_…

Went Edward's life machine.

_Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap…_

Went Carlisle Cullen's black shoes in the waiting room.

If it weren't for him, Edward would still be alive… if he had just _listened _to his son, and then my love wouldn't be strapped to a hospital bed with tubes sticking out of his body.

Police was outside, keeping the reporters out, and at first they wouldn't let me in but when the medic told him I was an important person to Edward they let me in.

Grudgingly, I might add.

Emmett had indeed called for me, and he had explained how he knew about me.

"Edward was a different person when he talked about you. He even stopped drinking Martini when he found out you hated the stuff. And the note said it all, so I thought if he woke up and saw you, and then maybe he'd change his mind about killing himself…"

_If _he woke up. Not _when_, but _if_.

I sat next to Edward's bed, watching his lifeless face, holding a stone cold hand. I watched a tear fall down on my jeans leg and waited for him to move, to say something, even to groan in pain… I waited for him to do something that told me he was _alive_…

**1 MONTH LATER**…

Edward still wouldn't wake up; I listened quietly as the doctor talked to Carlisle…

"His is a very critical condition. The way he crashed, and the amount he'd drunk before and during the drive made the whole reason for us to pull the plug more pronounced. If the crash wouldn't make him wake up, then nor would the drink…"

"Are you sure? There must be _something _you can do!" Carlisle bellowed. The doctor sighed and explained again, "All we can do is wait, but after a month then things could get nasty…"

Carlisle shook his head and waved the doctor away. He sank in a chair next to me and finally looked at me, his eyes bloodshot.

"I heard you two that night, when he was crying you know. I knew I was making a mistake, but I never thought he would go this far-"

"If you heard and you _knew _then why did you continue acting like he was fucking _guinea pig_? If you _knew _then why didn't you act like a _father _instead of someone who didn't give a shit about him? Do you have _any idea _what he's been going through? The drinks aren't even HALF of it. He does drugs, he does drinking, and he goes clubbing and gets stoned so he could forget about what a shitty life he was leading!" I snarled at him. Carlisle watched me cautiously as if I was a bomb about to explode, and reached out to grab my hand.

"I love that kid more than you can imagine, Isabella. He's the world to me! I never meant to hurt him, to act like a taker and not a giver… I wanted to give him the life I had always dreamed of."

"Then if you loved him so much, why did you say no when he asked to go to college?" I snatched my hand away and stood up, my eyes narrowed. Esme Cullen was crying, tears falling freely down her face, Emmett and Rosalie were looking at us curiously. Jasper was holding a shaking Alice, while he himself drank a large coffee.

"I didn't think-" he broke off as the light on the board switched from NO VISITORS to VISITORS.

"You can go first." I muttered, sitting back down, my head in my hands.

"No. I think you should go. I believe he loved you more than he would have ever loved me, and if he wakes up and sees you, then…" he didn't have to say so twice. I was up and out of that seat in a shot, walking shakily to Edward's room.

I sat there, stroking the hair off his face, watching his chest rise and fall, afraid that each breath he took would be the last. The oxygen mask that kept him breathing looked unnaturally dark against his now death white skin…

I watched, as the heart machine counting his beats suddenly extended to one lone beat…

And then I saw why.

A hand had reached out and plucked one of the tubes off his chest and gripped it tightly, so the heart machine couldn't count any beats because it couldn't _feel _any beats.

His green eyes fluttered open and turned to me…

"Bella?" he rasped.

That was all he could say before doctors rushed in, taping the tubes he had ripped off of his body, back on, and I was escorted out of the room.

He was alive.

And, now, so was my heart.


	21. Chapter 21

CHAPTER 21

**REVIEW!!**

**CHAPTER 21**

**TO LOVE AGAIN…**

**EPOV**

**2 AND A HALF YEARS LATER:**

I watched Bella serve a cocktail to the couple by the pool before she turned round and beamed at me. She held up ten fingers, indicating her break was in ten minutes. I nodded and settled down in my seat, head tilted toward the sun.

My counselling had gotten pretty bad after I tried that stupid act of killing myself. At least, my father sees sense right now, and he's letting me apply to every college I ever desired entering.

That day when I woke up and saw Bella cry, it broke my heart twice over. I hated seeing her cry, as I hated seeing the way my father had looked when he had walked into the room. He had bloodshot eyes, bags, stubble… the works.

Nothing in my body was seriously damaged, thank God. Just a couple of busted ribs, and a sprained wrist and that were about it. The big damaged had been on my head, and that's why I had been in a coma… OK, I admit, the stunt I had pulled wasn't one of my creative ones, especially after when Bella looked so damned _guilty_, as if it was she who decided to make the car go haywire…

After I was good enough to travel, my father had decided that the whole family – including Jasper and Rosalie – was to go on holiday for the summer. When he asked me, however, I said, "No."

"No? Why not? A holiday is _exactly _what you need, son." He had reasoned, surprised by my reaction.

"I can't go without Bella. It's not fair that for everything she did for me, I go and leave her here alone."

"Then she can come, too. It's no big deal."

"She needs a job, too." OK, I was pressing on, making him feel just the _tiniest _bit guilty so Bella could come along, too.

"Well, I guess I could find _something_…" so it was settled. Bella could come with me and stay in my room. The night my father said yes, I played my lullaby for Bella back at her apartment, and she'd said she loved it. She would work in the day and we'd go out in the night and have a great time together.

I watched her as she laughed with a customer and lay the bill on the table for him to pay, and bi watched the man – maybe in his early thirties – eyeing her hungrily.

She went back inside to fish out some change and then when she paid them and waved goodbye, she sauntered over to where I sat. I grabbed her waist and sat her on my lap.

"Hey, honey. Love of my life." I murmured in her neck. He neck warmed and I knew she was blushing.

Blushing on her looks _good_, let me tell you.

"Hey." She cupped my face in her hands and brushed her lips softly against mine.

Man, life is _sweet_.

Especially when you have a great fiancée who loves you and you love and care for her more than she could imagine, and you're sitting near a pool in Rome in the summer, and the sun is just about setting, leaving a beautiful glow over the waves.

Oh, and when you have a low alcohol cocktail on the table in front of you, well…

As I said, life is sweet.

_Drying new tears_

_I will be me_

_I will soon be_

_Free from the chains of all this pain inside_

_And though I cry_

'_It won't be long_

_Till I regain the strength to know_

_I can go on_

_I will find my way_

_Through the heart break_

_I will not give up for love_

_I believe…_

_I will learn to love again_

_I will learn to trust_

_What is hurt can start to mend_

_I will learn to learn to love again_

_All of these tears_

_Time will dry them_

_I will survive them_

_And make it through another day_

_All of this pain_

_Time will heal it_

_There will be a time sometime I know_

_I won't feel it_

_I will live through_

_Life without you_

_After the hurting is done!_

_I believe…_

_I will learn to love again_

_I will learn to trust_

_What is hurt can start to mend_

_I will learn to learn to love again_

_And I will find_

_Someone_

_Who deserves my touch_

_After all the hurt is through_

_I will be so over you_

_I will not give up for love_

_I believe…_

_I will learn to love again_

_I will learnt o trust_

_What is hurt can start to mend_

_I will learn to love again…_

_Oh…._

_Oh, oh, again…_

_To love again_

_To love again_

_To love again…._


End file.
